The Warden and her Prisoner
by Another Girl Grasping
Summary: Hermione has surprised everyone by taking up the position of Warden in Azkaban.  Four years after the war Bellatrix Lestrange has finally been caught.  Rated M for Language, violence and sexual situations  all the fun stuff
1. Meet the Warden

The Warden and her Prisoner

Hermione has shocked everyone by taking up the position of Warden at Azkaban. Four years after the war Belletrix Lestrange has finally been caught.

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me.

A/N: First fanfic in years, new name, new views. Critisism is encouraged.

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"Oh fuck, yes." She says. Her hips thrust forward; she impales herself further still on my fingers. I let her. I hold my hand still and let her ride it out. Let her fuck herself for all I care. "Oh god, oh fuck, oh baby, yes!" This bitch talks way too much. I place a single finger from my less than busy left hand on her lips. "Shh, don't talk." Her hips stop immediately. Soft blue eyes narrow up at me. I roll my own set of brown eyes and begin thrusting again. My lips slide into a smirk at the sight of her trying to control her body, she's trying stop it from responding to me. "You're such an asshole." She groans as her body betrays her with a roll of her hips. I look her dead in the eye. "I think you might be right." I'm thrusting two fingers hard, using my thumb to tweak her clit, making it good for her. Slowing down before picking the pace up with vigor, I bend my neck and alternate between her perfect breasts, lavishing them in kisses, tugs, gentle bites.

She moans for me. Her moan is something special. Soft and enticing, coming from the back of her throat, building into not quite an 'OH' more of an animalistic 'Uhm.' Her teeth are ravaging her lower lip, already swollen from the battle it did with my mouth. Her hips are rotating up at me now, her back arching into a lovely little bridge. I imagine her husband doesn't even notice the musky sex smell when he comes home from playing cards with the boys. Chances are he's forgotten the sounds his wife makes. It's a shame. She sits up abruptly, making me pay attention again. She's about to come, I feel her walls pulling at my fingers, the muscles clenching and releasing. She buries her face in my neck and her nails dig at my back. God that makes me wet. Her moans grow more frantic. Her orgasm spreads through her as an army of "oh Oh OHs!" marches over her teeth and past her lips. I feel her thighs shudder, her walls press in on me one last time, hard. I pull my thumb from her clit and allow her to ride the aftershocks of her release on my slippery fingers.

She watches me lick her sweetness off of my fingers, one by one. I don't like to waste; after all there are people out there who aren't getting laid. It's like throwing away food when people are starving, unacceptable. She sighs contentedly, smiling up at me. She is certainly a lovely woman. Wide, rounded hips, slim waist, sweet pink nipples on plum sized breasts that fit enticingly into my palm. Too damned bad about that husband business. I pass her clothes to her and thank her for a very nice time. She pouts and moves toward me. "Don't you want some too?" she asks and the offer is rather enticing but I have other things to attend to. "Perhaps next time." I say and walk out.

I have to wait until I get outside to apparate. It's fun to play with muggles, I try to keep my conquests outside of the magical world, if I were to fuck the wives of wizards my life would become considerably more complicated and that is something that I just don't need. For all the magical world knows could be asexual. I don't feel the need for anyone to know my business. It was rough to let Ron down easy. He doesn't exactly take anything easily. But he found a nice little wife and he has a nice little house and nice little children now. I did take a bit of heat from everyone over that. Sweet Hermione didn't exactly turn out the way the world expected her to after the war. War hardens a person, makes places that were once smooth a bit rougher. When I chose my occupation it shocked everyone once again. With my intelligence I should have become a professor at Hogwarts, everyone said so.

The thought of having to teach people like the ones I went to school with was enough to make me want to scream. The war turned me into what I have become. Everyone else wanted to have a nice peaceful life once it was over and I tried and tried, but it was so mundane and I just couldn't take it. I needed the excitement of dealing with criminals and enemies. I became the head warden in Azkaban. I didn't start out there, but I was so very good at my job, good at anticipating the plots of ex Death Eaters, good at keeping them in line that I moved up in rank very quickly. No one understands why I would want a job dealing with even more evil, as if my teens weren't full of enough of it. When it comes right down to it, I don't really understand it either, I just don't care about not being understood, I only care about keeping those fucking Death Eaters behind bars, keeping a wand out of their hands, keeping power over them.

I apparate into my office on the island in the middle of the sea and begin another nights work. Appeals, tips on uncaught Death Eaters, sentencing meetings, the usual, what is not usual is the piece of parchment labeled _URGENT _sitting on my desk. Just after the war it was the norm, everything was urgent, but now things had slowed down. I feel excitement build in my stomach, who have we caught and classified as urgent? I quickly open the parchment and begin to read.

_Warden Granger,_

_ I am sending you this urgent notice to inform you that we have caught one BELLATRIX LESTRANGE. She is currently in the custody of Aurors and will be transported to AZKABAN prison tonight at 9pm. I am sure that I do not need to inform you of the dangerous nature of this prisoner and the need for the situation to be handled delicately. Her presence could easily spur on a rebellion of the prisoners; she is to their side a beacon of hope. I believe it would be best if she were brought quietly into the SUPERMAX cell block under dead of night when prisoners will be asleep for the most part._

_ Bernard Linsky_

_ Head of Ministry Defense_

Bellatrix Lestrange, caught, in custody, being brought at 9 pm. This is the most amazing news I've gotten in four years. I owl Harry and Ron to let them know that she has finally slipped up after four years. We finally have that bitch. I look at my watch, 7:45. It won't be long now. My eyes move from my watch to the thin lines spelling out Mudblood. She'll fucking pay for that one. I order for one of the supermax cells to be prepared for our newest prisoner. It's been far too long since she saw the inside of Azkaban, I wonder if she'll like what I've done with the place. I laugh to myself and smile. Today is a very good day.

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Reviews are welcomed. Next chapter in a few days.


	2. Yes, Warden

The Warden and her Prisoner

Disclaimer: If i owned anything I wouldnt be writing fan fiction.

A/N: Chapter 2 came out of my head quickly and I was going to wait to post it, but I guess I'm eager.

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_You knew the price it would cost_

_As everyone looked away in disgrace_

_We own the things that you've lost_

_Is there a chance it could fade?_

_What a shame…_

_-Versant_

**Chapter 2**

Bellatrix Lestrange looks like absolute shit. She is thin, far too thin. "Where the fuck have you been hiding? A third world country?" I ask while reading the notes from her sentencing. "Fuck you." She replies. I laugh at her and pointedly eye her from head to toe. "I wouldn't fuck you with someone else's dick. " Her eyes widen a bit and I shake my head at her turning back to my paperwork. "Filthy mudblood." She spits out. Once again I laugh; pushing my chair back I stand and walk over to her. I grab a fistful of her hair and twist it, pulling her head backward. "Listen 93" Her face turns sour at the mention of the number tattooed on her neck from her first stay at Azkaban.

"You are in my world now and in my world you call me Warden. I call you 93. You see I've done you one kindness already. I made sure that we skipped number 93 when we rounded up your comrades so we wouldn't have to get you a new tattoo." I loosen my grip on her hair and push her head back forward, walking around my desk to sit back down and pick her file up. "I'll take your silence as a thank you. Now I see that you have been sentenced to life in the supermax ward. I think you'll like it, there's a cot and a flushing toilet and everything. Seeing as you smell rather like excrement I can only guess it's a luxury you've been living without. You'll get your three meals a day. A shower once a day and should you behave well you will be permitted to partake in one hour of activities."

"I thought this was supposed to be a prison, sounds more like a bloody hotel. Second class accommodations I'll bet with a mudblood in charge." She scoffs. I look up at her and smile. "We aim to provide excellent customer service." Stupid bitch. "Ok 93, are you concealing any weapons or magical items?" She doesn't answer. I stand again and walk over to her. "You can answer, or I can check for myself." She remains silent. I pull a pair of muggle surgery gloves from a box on my desk and slip them on. "What are those for?" She shrieks. I slap her, hard. "You don't ask questions 93. You'll address me properly as 'Warden' either at the start or the conclusion of each sentence I allow you to utter. You will respect your superiors. As for the gloves, did you think I was going to touch you with my bare hands? You're filthy, you smell like a backed up sewer and I do not know what you might be hiding." "Fuck you!" She yells in my face. "Very original, maybe if you try asking nicely." I begin to remove her black tattered dress. Her skin is disgustingly filthy, as I expose more and more of it I can't help but think that her situation has drastically improved by being caught, perhaps she allowed it to happen. "Step out of the dress." She does. I toss it directly into the trash. I perform a couple of simple cleaning spells on her, unable to endure the smell any longer.

I remove her undergarments and note that her body is rail thin. "How long has it been since you've eaten?" I ask. "Roughly two weeks." I slap her. "Why the fuck are you hitting me mudblood?" I pull her hair back. "Do you know how long I've waited for them to find you? Do you know how long I've waited to do this to you? Four fucking years. You will address me as 'WARDEN' 93, or you will be punished each and every single time. Maybe I'll punish you even when you do call me Warden. Who knows? As I told you before you've entered my world now and I can do as I fucking please with all of you slimy fucking scum. Do you know who checks up on the standards in this facility? No one. There isn't one person in the magical community who gives a fuck about the way prisoners are treated. In here I am your God. Bend at the waist." She refuses to comply. With a flick of my wand she's bent over and I perform a standard cavity search.

She's clean… in a matter of speaking. I remember a time when this sort of thing made me blush, I felt someone would realize that I'm a lesbian up to my knuckles in the female prisoners, demand I be removed from my position, but this is nothing like sex at all and it never happened. This is disgusting, detached, and not at all sexy. I remove the spell holding her over. "You can stand." She does and spits directly in my face. I wipe it off and slap her so hard she falls to the floor, I give her a kick in her side. "Get up 93." She stands. "I can make things extremely uncomfortable for you here. Our history makes me want to already, don't make things harder on yourself." I take her dress out of the trash and hand it to her. "Put it back on." She shakes her head. "It was just in the trash." She replies. "I know where it was 93, you act as though it was pristine before. You can walk through the halls nude if you'd like." She puts it back on. "I fucking hate you Warden." She says sweetly, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Good." I reply.

I push her down the halls toward the prison showers. I allow her to bathe. When she is finished I hand her a fresh set of undergarments and her very own tan prison garb. She dressed herself and looks at me expectantly. "I know black is your color, but damn if tan doesn't flatter you." She bares her teeth at me in a snarl. "Jesus 93, have you heard of oral hygiene?" I point my wand at her mouth and clean them a bit. "Would you like to see your cell?" She ignores the question, I pull her hair. "Yes Warden." She complies. "Good 93, good." I walk her through the halls toward the supermax ward. "Your husband is here you know, but if I'm not mistaken he has a husband of his own now, that's a shame." She looks over at me. "Cunt." I punch her in the head. "Warden, 93, Warden." I correct her.

We arrive at her cell. "Against my better judgment I'm going to offer you a meal tonight. Would you like a meal?" She eyes me like I'm the criminal in the room, I can tell she wants tell me to fuck off, but the hunger behind her eyes makes her nod her head. I lift my hand to slap her again but she throws her hands up "Yes Warden!" I lower my hand. I walk her into her cell; she walks over to the bed. "I'd give you the grand tour but I think you can tell where everything is." I tell her. "Yes Warden." I give her a once over. She looks defeated. I'm sure she never wanted to be here again, but that is her problem isn't it? No one told her to be a fucking lunatic Death Eater. No one told her to pick the losing side. No one told her to get caught. I head down to the kitchens. I arrange for a meal of baked chicken vegetables and potatoes and walk it back up myself.

When I enter her cell she looks at me like I'm insane for bringing her meal to her myself. I place the tray before her. She grabs the plastic fork and knife and prepares to put a piece of chicken into her mouth when I stop her. She looks up at me murderously. I'm sure she is starving. "Isn't there something you want to say?" I ask. "Are you kidding me?" she screams. I levitate her dinner up out of her reach. "I think you'll find I'm completely serious." I inform her. She stands and rushes toward me in a rage. "Petrificus!" I yell and her legs freeze just short of me. "I've been in hiding for four years, four years of suffering and you want a fucking thank you? Fuck you Warden! Fuck you! You're really enjoying your role aren't you Warden? Really milking the situation. I'll get my hands around your pretty little mudblood throat one day. Then you'll be a fucking DEAD Warden!" she screams.

I levitate the tray of food out of her cell and walk out behind it, releasing her legs from the bind over my shoulder after I've locked the cell door. "Warden?" I hear her crazy voice call after me. I look back. She has her hands around the bars of her cell. "What 93?" A slow smile spreads across her face, making her look insane. "I should have fucking killed you the day I branded you." She says. I reach through the bars and seize her by the throat, squeezing so that her carotid artery bulges out and I can see it throb. Her breathing gets erratic and I let go of her throat. She falls to the floor and I turn away again as she cackles like a freak. I pull out my muggle cell phone and scroll through my conquests until I find one with a choking fetish whose husband works early. I need to arrange a romp for myself when I get out of work. Though half of me wants to go back to her cell and finish what I started.

I'll never admit it to anyone but that day she carved into my arm I was sopping wet. I hate the scar it left behind, but that day I found my masochistic side, sadism came along with the job. I've wanted to cut her since she cut me. I've wanted to hear her screams. I've wanted to taste her tears. It's no easy feat being Warden Granger, with all the power. Absolute power does truly corrupt absolutely. Even when I leave this place I'm Warden Granger. I'm always on call like a doctor. I'm always ready to punish whoever may need punishing. I'm always sexually frustrated when I leave. Warden Granger has taken over Hermione Granger.

She needs to gain weight before I go back up there. I'm likely to kill her if I try to discipline her now. It took most of my self-control not to beat her too much. I wasn't lying when I said that no one checks up on what I'm doing here, they don't. I'm sure they'd give me a medal should I kill every single one of my inmates, but that would be terrible on my soul. I've yet to kill anyone and she isn't going to be the one to push me that far. Yes, I'll have to arrange for nice portions to be sent up to her cell before I have another encounter with her. She didn't look half bad after her shower and once I cleaned her teeth a bit she looked pretty good actually. For a malnourished woman her bust certainly hadn't suffered any loss.

I should go through some more paperwork and get this bitch out of my head. I don't need to be thinking about fucking my new prisoner right now. Self-control is the most important part of being Warden Granger. Level headed. Able to handle anything, though self-control was her least favorite kind, she much preferred to control others. As if my thoughts were broadcast to the world an owl flies into my office and drops a letter on my desk. I give it a treat and it flies off.

_Hermione,_

_We're ecstatic to hear that they finally caught that maniac. Give her hell for all of us, Merlin knows she's earned a little retribution. Stay safe, you know how terrible she can be, though you've more than proven you can handle the likes of her._

_Harry and Ron_

Merlin knows I want to punish her, but what I've got in mind might not be exactly what they have in mind. I'm sure they wouldn't approve of what I'm considering. I run my fingers over the scar she gave me, I hate what it says but I've grown fond of the feel of the raised scarred skin. What to do about this bitch? What to do indeed…

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Reviews make me happy. Thank you guys. I seem to be cranking this one out at an accelerated pace, hopefully I can keep it up.


	3. Punishment

The Warden and her Prisoner

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me but a sick and twisted mind.

A/N: Thanks again to the reviewers, the people following the story and those of you who are reading and are too lazy to comment. Don't expect another chapter tomorrow. Perhaps Monday. Enjoy the weekend all.

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_We can fight our desires_

_But will we start making fires?_

_We get ever so hot_

_Whether we like it or not_

_They say we can love who we trust_

_But what is love without lust?_

_-La Roux_

Chapter 3

I'm having a long fucking day. If I could just rearrange the reality of those words to a 'long day fucking' that would be fantastic, but sadly as it stands I'm having a long fucking day. The prisoners were particularly rowdy today. Word spreads quickly in this place. The halls have been full of cries of my newest prisoner's name. They scream for her as if I am going to put her on a leash and walk her through the halls for them to get a good look at her. She won't be leaving her cell until she earns it. She will respect me or I will have her screams.

As for my rowdy halls, the guards made it clear that any yelling would be taken as a sign that the prisoner responsible would like to skip his meals for the next week. Glorious silence. I bring my hands up to my temples and massage them, willing the pressure to ebb away. I am going to have to continue taking Bellatrix to the showers privately myself; I can't have her in the showers meeting her adoring public. The buzz of her arrival has to die down before I can allow my prisoners to see her in any informal setting. Some of them are going to want to plot with her, some of them are going to want to kill her, and she needs to be broken of her pride, I need it to be clear to her that any sort of plotting is useless and will be punished severely. No one escapes from my prison; no one tries to rise up against me. I am a fair and ruthless Warden. I am the best thing that ever happened to these pieces of shit.

It's time to go see my celebrity prisoner. I was hoping to hold off on going down to her cell until she had regained some strength, but the situation calls for intervention. Merlin forbid she should feel important. I check myself in the mirror, smart gray slacks that hug the curve of my hips, a white blouse (long sleeves to cover the scar), tucked in and simple black heeled boots. I pull my hair into a neat, low bun. A professional woman stares back at me, but in the eyes is a secret freak. I smile at my reflection and it's like she's trying to seduce me, if I could I would let her. I walk briskly down the corridors toward supermax. Most of my prisoners retreat to the furthest corners of their cells at the sound of my heels clicking down the ward. They know that I am not one to be reckoned with already. Bellatrix Lestrange however, has no fucking clue who she is fucking with. Her hands hang out of her cell. I conjure up a thin ruler, Catholic Elementary School style and beat her fingers with it. She squeals in indignation and tries to grab my ruler. "Party Foul 93. This is my ruler, stealing is not permitted in my prison." I open the door and she takes a step back.

She snarls at me. I like it when a prisoner has a lot of fight in them, I like to beat it out of them, subdue them. "Now 93, we can't let your attempted thievery go unpunished can we?" I ask, placing my hand on my hip. "I wasn't trying to steal anything." I cock my head to the left, raising the ruler and she adds "Warden" reluctantly, as if the word tastes awful. "I don't know what to make of this situation then; you made a grab for my ruler. Now you're saying you had no intention of stealing from me… Hmm, what could your intentions have been by grabbing my ruler?" Her eyes are wide in disbelief. We both know I'm being cheeky, but I have that right. "What to do, what to do. I know! Face your bed and place your hands palm down on it, bend over nice for me." I order her. "I will not. I am of a pure blood status and I will not be degraded by the likes of you." I laugh at her openly. Rage fills her eyes and her features contort in a way that makes her very ugly. "Why 93, you look like you could spit nails." I chuckle. Her nostrils flair, how nice.

In just three clicks of my heels I'm standing before her. I run my fingers briefly through her black curls before tightening my grip and turning her forcefully toward the bed and bending her over. I bring the ruler down five times, so swiftly that I can hear it whir through the air. I'm sure there are five angry red marks across her ass. I rub the ruler up and down her abused globes before pulling her up by the hair. Her face is flushed, I'm breathing heavily. In another world we could have gotten along fabulously, but that isn't this world. In this world it's unimportant. Her wide eyes are slightly lidded. I can see fire in them. I pointedly look down at my fingers, turning the ruler over and over in fascination. "Have we learned not to steal in Warden Granger's prison?" I ask her. "Or do we need to continue?" I stop turning the ruled over and point it at her. The color is just beginning to fade from her face now. "I'll continue." She says through her teeth furiously. "A little pain can't make me bend to your whims Mudblood." I smile wickedly at her. "I was hoping you would say that."

I conjure manacles around her wrists and ankles, a collar and leash around her neck and walk her into the hall of the supermax ward. The prisoners have all come to the bars of their cells to see some punishment. "Hello everyone." I say cheerfully and as though it's been rehearsed they reply "Good Evening Warden Granger." My prisoners are so well behaved. "I know there are some prisoners who've been shouting in my halls." I say looking around at everyone. Each face delicately looks away. "No one in here I'm sure, not my supermax ward. All of my prisoners in this ward know better than to shout any name other than Warden Granger into the night." I smile devilishly at them and they all grin back at me, sensing that I've let them off the hook this time, knowing that I could change my mind any moment and punish everyone. "Since you're all such very good prisoners, I've decided to give you all a little treat tonight. Here she is, the woman everyone has been yelling for!" I motion to 93. She stands proudly, carefully not showing a shred of fear.

"It seems that this prisoner finds pain isn't enough of an incentive to make her bend to my will. So I'm going to try a pain and humiliation at the same time to see if that's more her speed." The prisoners look at Bellatrix with pity. They've watched me break a person down before; they know that more resistance makes it more fun for me. I turn to Bellatrix and conjure a bench in the center of the hall. I sit down and transfigure my ruler into a riding crop; I brush the thin strips of leather over my scarred arm, loving the feel of it against my own skin. I pull Bellatrix by her shackles and lay her roughly over my knee, like an ill-behaved child. I pull her tan trousers down below her ass, baring her for her fellow inmates to see. I trace my fingers delicately across the five welts I have already left on her. I hear her intake a sharp breath. I pet her hair gently. "All of this could have been avoided if you could have just been a good girl 93." I coo to her while lifting the riding crop. "But you'll learn discipline while in my ward, you'll learn to enjoy discipline." The riding crop is a blur as I bring it down onto her lower body. The strips of leather hit her in a pretty crisscross of lines. A scream rips from her throat, unwillingly. I feel myself getting warm. I bring the crop down once again, a bit more lightly. She whimpers at the second hit on her abused ass. I forget how long it goes on, lost in the rush of doling out pain. I stop when I see I've broken skin. Not enough to bleed, but enough that she is going to have to sleep on her stomach for the next two weeks. Enough pretty fine lines to make me feel better about the word carved into my left arm.

The prisoners are all staring in horrified fascination at her. I pet her hair again. I allow her to stand and get rid of the bench. I pull her trousers up and put her back into her cell, but not before noticing the damp patch in the front. "I just wanted you all to know that Bellatrix Lestrange is no more important than any prisoner. She is not a savior; she is but another life in my hands. Just like every other prisoner, spread the word." I explain to my ward. Having proved my point to them I stride into Bellatrix's cell. I remove her manacles, collar and leash. Her eyes shine with tears she refuses to shed. She looks as though she can't decide on whether to try and kill me or beg me to fuck her. "It doesn't have to be this way 93, it could be nice for you here. I pride myself on running a humane prison." I tell her. "You're joking? This is meant to be humane?" She shrieks, pulling her trouser down a few inches; exposing to my eyes her lower back, the bright red skin, raw from my treatment. I cast a silencing charm on the cell; my prisoners don't deserve to hear this.

I chuckle softly; my nerves feel alive with every step I take toward her. I see her watch my hips as I walk. I'm close enough to smell her arousal and I run the pad of just my index finger over the dampness of her trousers. "It seems you didn't find it all bad." I whisper into her ear. She shudders at the contact, prompting another chuckle from me. I do so enjoy when I woman forsakes her pride for the interest of her carnal desires. I roll my sleeves back and expose the mark she left on me. "This word here has been waiting for me to do some writing of my own for a while now. I just wrote a story of domination across you. It's only fair, one mark begs another." She eyes it. Mudblood. I bring my arm up to her lips and her eyes widen at me. She plants her full lips against the scar. I smile at the sight. My right hand moves to stroke her in that most private of places.

She moans as I palm what it is that makes this maniac a woman. "How long has it been since you were bedded?" I ask snidely. "None of your business Warden." She growls. I press the heel of my palm hard into her core, snaking my scarred arm up her neck, burying my hand into her curls. "Everything is my business." I back at her. I dip one solitary digit into her and slide it back out, holding it before her face. "Must have been a long time ago, it seems you're rather backed up here." I tease. "Am I correct in guessing Warden Granger enjoyed punishing me as much as I enjoyed being punished by her?" She asks. I run my fingernails down her neck and she leans into my hand. "More." I reply huskily while pulling her shirt over her head. I back her up to the wall of her cell and she gasps in pain as her wounds meet concrete. What a pretty little sound. I cover her mouth with mine, sliding my tongue across her bottom lip, demanding entrance. I bit on her lips and massage her tongue with mine, sending electric waves through us both. I allow her hands to roam my body, unbutton my blouse. She takes my scar to her mouth and traces it with her tongue. "Bite." I tell her and she looks at me with shock in her eyes. "Don't question me, just do as I say." I order her and she bites down, hard. I feel myself becoming moist. She pulls away and I can see her teeth marks around the 'UD" in mudblood. She has a little bit of blood in her teeth now. "Does it taste like mud bitch?" I ask her. She licks her teeth. Her eyes are crazed.

She presses her body flush against me. "The dirtiest." She says close to my ear. I slap her across her face. She laughs. "The filthiest." I slap the cuts on her back. She cries out and stares menacingly at me. "The nastiest." I grasp her throat and squeeze. I watch her face turn red, then purple, watch her claw at my hands, pull her up from her throat and kiss her again. When I finally release her she falls back onto the wall, forgetting about her back and inhales sharply through her teeth. I turn her around and bend her over again. "Spread your legs for me." I demand and laugh at her when she complies without question. "Ask me for it. Persuade me." I smirk. She rolls her hips toward me. Very nice. "Fuck me." She's trying her hardest not to give me anything. I tease my fingers at her entrance. "That didn't sound like a question." She groans. I slide my digit up and down her slit, pausing every time I get where she wants me and telling her to ask. "Fuck me! Fuck me please!" she cries out and I push three fingers into her roughly.

She almost falls over with the force of it before bracing herself on the wall. Her hips push back onto my hand with each thrust. I reach around her and grasp her breast, squeezing her nipple, then reaching for her other breast and kneading it. She feels like silk on the inside, slick silk, my fingers glide in and out with ease. I scratch my nails back down her upper back, grazing just the top of her cuts. A guttural moan rips from her. She becomes slicker and I tuck my little finger into the first three, filling her more fully. I reach around her again to make circles on her clit. Her sounds are like nothing I ever expected, soft and inviting, too sweet, they seem out of place. When she comes its violence. Her walls clench me so tightly I fear she may break my fingers. I move to pull out. "Don't stop!" she snarls at me. Surprised, I turn her around to face me and keep at her. "Harder!" she shrieks, opening her legs wider. Oh fuck. I lean part of my weight on her, planting kisses and bites on her flat stomach. She pulls at my hair, frantic. It must really have been a long time. Her hips rhythmically roll up toward me. Not too long after she comes again, with no less urgency than they first time. This time she seems to fold into herself on the cot, basking in the glow. I clean her off of my hand with my tongue slowly, she watches each move.

"I think you've been disciplined enough for tonight 93." I say, putting my clothes back to rights. "I'll have your meal sent up and I'll be back in a few hours to escort you to the showers. Don't get too dirty in the meantime." She's glowering at me. I wave my fingers below my nostrils, taking in her scent. Sweet and peppery. She stares daggers at me. "Not bad Warden." She says. "For a mudblood." I smirk, it seems my prisoner wants another lesson in manners. Lucky for her I'm more than happy to oblige. But for now, I've work to do.

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A/N: Hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I noticed a few mistakes in my last chapter, so oops about that, I was more careful here. Hit the review button, let me know how you love it. ;-)


	4. Too many cooks in the kitchen

The Warden and her Prisoner

Disclaimer: I don't own it nor do I pretend to own it.

A/N: For some reason I got up at 4:30 a.m. and I would have been in trouble if i woke up my fiancee. So lucky for all of you guys I wrote a chapter. Thanks for all the reviews. I fear I may be spoiling you guys cranking out a chapter a day... I hope you appreciate it, or you might need some dicipline! I've been reading a lot of comments about how people like that Hermione is the dominant character. Thank you for your encouragement. I love some of the stories here but I was noticing that Hermione is always getting beaten and fucked. Hermione is my FAVORITE HP character. I felt the need to change it up. I'm glad you guys seem to be enjoying.

The song used in this chapter is Starts With One by Shiny Toy Guns. I don't own that either. I just love it.

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**Chapter 4**

_Starts with one_

_I can't feel_

_It's all in your mind anyway_

_And I can't heal_

_Make me feel this way_

After seeing to the hygiene of one Bellatrix Lestrange I'm ready for bed or a drink. I walk into my office and see the letter sitting there. Before I open it I know who it's from. I can feel her coming off of the piece of parchment. You never get over your first, not completely. That's why the letter is here, why against my better judgment I'm going to read it instead of setting it on fire and pissing on the ashes like I know I should. There have been letters in the past, none of them made me feel particularly good. It was a blessing that they came less and less frequently. I open the stupid parchment. The ink is blotched with tears, how… annoying.

_Hermione,_

_ Harry told me about that woman being caught. I've been worrying since I heard the news. The thought of you with her just makes my blood boil. I've never wanted anything for you but happiness. I've been hoping for all these years that you would find someone who could give you everything you need. I don't understand, there have been women who embraced your… particularities across the years, women who would have gone to the ends of the earth for you and you break each and every single one of them. Please don't lose who you really are to the monster you perceive in yourself. Let one of your other guards deal with Lestrange. She's poison. I know you won't respond, I never expect you to anymore, but know that you have people who care about you._

_Ginny_

Isn't that just peachy? She wants me to be happy. She doesn't understand why… oh why. I could have my pick of women, careers, I could come around the Burrow more, I could come and see their children, they made me Godmother to Lily. I can't look at the child without wanting to scream. Ginny's fair skin and flaming hair with Harry's green eyes staring back at me. How am I supposed to stay away from Bellatrix Lestrange? She made me who I am. I lost Ginny because of her. Retribution is owed in abundance. In the beginning we tried to stay friends, or rather I tried to bide my time until she would realize what a mistake she was making. I had brought girls around, the most amazing looking girls, intelligent girls, slutty girls, nothing made her jealous. After a while I stopped coming around at all, unable to bear witness to the truly blooming love she had found with Harry.

Bellatrix Lestrange took everything from me the day she gave me that scar. I was able to enjoy the sweet vanilla of Ginny Weasley's love making before Lestrange awakened in me a desire for more. I could see the fear in her eyes at being asked to hit me and fuck me harder, faster, closer, more, make it hurt! She didn't want things to be that way. It wasn't in her soul. I couldn't get off without it anymore. So many tears. So many unanswered questions. _"Why am I not enough for you anymore Hermione?" _ No one is enough for me. I gave up my hope of that with her. I remember days lying in the grass, watching clouds, I remember exploring one another, learning one another. I remember the promises of a young girl that she would love me until the ends of time. In a few swift movements with her knife Bellatrix Lestrange changed something in me, something deep and fundamental to who I was.

_Now there's two I can't see_

_I've never felt this way_

_I can't feel anything anyway_

_Let's show them the only way_

_Let's show them our heart_

I've been waiting for this one particular Death Eater for four years. There have been scores of women. Some who shared my '_particularities_' as Ginny put it. None of them were it. Oh they've tried; time and time again they've tried. Feminine women with that _particular _gleam in their eye. Masculine women who wanted to dominate me. Women of all shapes, all sizes, beautiful and hideous alike I've tried them all to no avail. _Captain it seems we have a problem, the piston is not properly lubricated, we're going to need a specialist for this one. _ Those swift strokes with the knife, the graceful movements, so sure, no clumsy fumbling. I haven't found a woman with a steady hand, no matter her _particularities. _I can't make myself settle for an amateur, not when my first taste was from a master. The only woman I ever wanted to patiently work with on it was Ginny and she couldn't take it, she wasn't _particular._

I hate Bellatrix Lestrange; she took it all from me. My woman went running into the arms of the chosen one, nothing more than another baby factory now. My tastes are impossible to satisfy. She ruined me for other women. It's been three years since I even let anyone try to fuck me. It's always tempting, but I've been disappointed enough to know that no one is as good as that first taste. So I've been waiting, biding my time, gluttonously whetting my appetite with all the women I could possibly want. Finally I have her in the grasp of my fingertips. Four years of being on her string and now I finally have her on mine. What I gather from that letter is Ginny still doesn't want to see me going down a destructive path, but I know she feels it too, Lestrange took me from her. She doesn't want Lestrange to have me again. _"Why _Her _of all people Hermione? If it was anyone else I could handle this but _Her? _I just can't take that. Playing second fiddle to a psychopath is not my idea of a solid foundation for our future. I can't."_

I fold the letter in half, then half it again and again until it's just a tiny square. I flick that tiny square out into the dark sea. Just like a woman to begin caring once you stop thinking about her every night, waking in cold sweats to find yourself alone, the woman who should have been yours in your best friend's bed. I hate memories. I need to snap out of it. It's been a long time since I sat around feeling sorry for myself and it still sucks. I hate to drink alone. I leave the bottle of Fire Whiskey beneath my desk where it is. The last thing I need is to become an alcoholic on top of the rest of this mess. I check the time, its midnight, the evening shift is over, the overnight shift is beginning. The midnight guards begin making their way into my office for briefing. I stand before them. "Bellatrix Lestrange has already stepped out of line once. The halls have been quiet and I have publicly disciplined Ms. Lestrange. It is going to take some time before the spirits of those who see her as a fighting chance will realize that she is just another broken down prisoner. Any whispers heard of plots will not be tolerated. We need to keep in mind that this prisoner was the second in command for the other side during the war and as such the buzz from her presence will take some time to die down, but I have looked in her eyes and she is no different from the rest of them. Be vigilant, those of you guarding the doors to supermax; if there is any issue with that prisoner do not handle it yourself, summon me directly. She will try to kill you. With that said, have a good shift; I'll make my normal rounds. Thank you." They file out of my office looking ready for the night. There wasn't a shortage on people like me who wanted to devote themselves to keeping Death Eaters behind bars. I have an enthusiastic staff who get on well with one another and respect me.

Since ridding the prison of Dementors it was necessary to assemble a group of enthusiastic witches and wizards to run this facility. Most of them have worked with me from the start. My methods may seem bizarre at times, but they are effective. I took heat for getting rid of the Dementors, it seems no matter how good some people are they still want to see others suffer. Not that I'm much better, I just want people to suffer at my hands. If a prisoner is in a constant state of emptiness how can one discipline that person? There cannot be darkness without light, without sour there would be no sweet. Balance. That is what I run this prison on.

A knock on my door.

I look up and my eyes aren't altogether unpleased with what is at my door. I can't remember her first name, I always think of my guards by their surnames. Her features are soft and pretty. She's short but solid. Athletic body, probably Quidditch. I always hated sports. "Good evening Ms. Henry. What can I do for you today?" I ask smiling warmly at her. She is one of my better guards. I never need to check up on her work, she keeps things in line. "Evening Warden. I was wondering if you could use a bit of company tonight." Her tone is even; no doubt she has heard stories from the other guards about me. Ice cold bitch until you get her into bed. They are all rumors of course; I've never slept with one of my employees. Not for a lack of offers though. "Henry, you just finished your shift, surely you want to get home." I try not to be stern with her, she's a sweet girl. Something in her becomes bold. "I want to be the one who gets you. I've been watching you for months. You're everything I want." I sigh. "Henry, You're a big girl so I'm not going to coddle you. I cannot engage in relationships with anyone, let alone persons in my employ. I don't have affection. I'm just a husk. Were I to engage in a relationship with an employee I would tire of her and probably fire her so as to not have to think about it. It's bad business all around. I appreciate your work ethic and I don't want that to happen. I'm flattered, but the answer is no."

_Only three I can't seem_

_To get enough anyway_

_I can't speak_

_Nothing to say anyway_

Henry composes herself quickly. "Of course, Warden. I'm not sure what came over me, it was a momentary lapse. Have a good night." She says. I stand and walk over to her, I reach my hand out to shake hers and she grasps it, pulling me hard into a kiss. Her lips are pillow soft. She tries to deepen the kiss and I let her but all the while I'm thinking about how similar her lips feel to Bellatrix Lestrange's. She runs her hand softly down my back and I hate softness. She grasps my ass and that's taking it too far. I get my wits about me again and disengage from her. Her chest is rising and falling heavily, her eyes are sparkling. Time to nip this in the bud. "So let me guess, you figured if you could just plant one of your prize winning kisses on me I'd see the error of my ways and want to tumble sweetly into bed with you?" She looks as though she's been slapped. "I'm unavailable Henry. We won't speak of this again. Good night." I turn from her and walk back to my desk, engrossing myself in paperwork, not looking up for anything. After a few moments she walks out. I look up after her. I can only hope she won't talk about that to any of the other guards. I really would have to fire her for that, she wouldn't be the first and if it comes to that, well I'm sure she won't be the last.

Too many women in my head tonight. Ginny, Lestrange, Henry. Too many cooks in the kitchen. I pull the bottle of Fire Whiskey out from under my desk and pour myself a glass. To hell with not wanting to drink alone, I'm always alone. I put the shot down, enjoying the burning sensation as it travels down to my stomach. I pour myself a few more and before I know it I'm drunk. I stumble down the halls to supermax, composing myself as I walk past the guard at the doors of the ward, coming to the cell I want. The guards don't question me. Her eyes are open though its 3 am. She comes to attention when she sees my silhouette throwing shadows into her cell. I walk in, more Hermione Granger than Warden Granger than I have been in years. Closing the cell behind me I cast a silencing charm.

"Here to punish me a bit more Warden?" She asks and I smile. I close the space between us and straddle her on her cot, pressing myself to her. "No." I whisper in her ear. "I want you to hurt me."

_Starts with One_

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A/N: Hope you guys liked it, i thought I'd take a little break from the smut and develop more plot, but rest assured pretty ones, there _will _be more smut. Hit that review button, tell me how you love it.


	5. Keep Your Dignity

The Warden and Her Prisoner

Disclaimer: I do not own characters or settings from Harry Potter. But I sure have fun making them do what I want them to!

A/N: The song used in this chapter is Called Momma Sed by Puscifer. I suggest listening to it while reading. I listened to it on loop while I wrote it. I don't own the song. Thank you all for the reviews! I'm pleased that you guys like the story. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 5**

_Wake up son of mine_

_Mama got something to tell you_

_Changes come_

_Life will have its way_

_With your pride son_

_Take it like a man_

Bellatrix Lestrange's sharp fingernails bite deliciously into the skin of my throat; she digs a raw path with her skilled fingers starting from the back of my neck down to my pulse point. "You want me to do what to you Warden?" She asks slyly, smooth as silk, cruel as sandpaper. My head is reeling, fogged out with alcohol. She knows what I said; she just wants to hear it again. She demands it of me. I have to lower myself in order to get what I so lasciviously want from her. Nothing is free. I grind myself into her pelvis; take her ear between my lips, suckling it before biting down, causing her to hiss, and reminding her that this goes on my terms. "I want you to hurt me." I repeat. I feel a shiver run through her at the words. Four long years of hiding, that's an awfully long time to not play.

Her hand gently reaches for the pristinely starched and ironed collar of my smart white blouse, ripping it unceremoniously down. Buttons fly in how many directions? God may know, I do not. I shrug out of the sleeves of the blouse and toss it to the opposite side of the cell. She neatly rips my bra down the middle, yanking the cups in two directions, pulling it off of me and tossing it in the same general direction of my ruined blouse. A hand snakes up the gentle planes of my quivering stomach, between my breasts, around my neck and pulls the pin holding my hair neatly in a bun, out. Waves of my own soft, brown hair crash on the shore of my shoulders, framing my face. She sits up, burying her hands in my hair and pulling roughly. Each strand feels like pins and needles, the pain is exquisite.

Her breath is warm and sweet on my neck. She releases my hair, turning her attention to my breasts. Her mouth is skilled, giving pain with her teeth, taking it away with her full lips and tongue, only to give it back again. I figure, fuck it. I'm breaking all the rules anyway, may as well let go a little. I allow a moan to escape me. I feel her lips curl into a smirk against my breast. I run my fingers through her soft black hair; pressing more of my breast into her mouth and she groans in response. One of her hands begins the journey down to my slacks. Her fingers just reach the button when I feel it. The coin in my pocket, such a clever idea I had in Dumbledore's Army that I use it in my prison as well. Much easier than the floo network, when I'm needed the message displays on the coin and it heats up in my pocket to let me know. "What the fuck is that?" Bellatrix asks, unbuttoning my slacks. I sigh, pushing her hands away. "That." I say, disengaging myself from her. "Is the universe insisting that it be the only one who fucks me." I pull the coin out of my pocket and my eyes widen at the message.

_Mrs. Potter to see you in your office._

"Oh fuck." I mutter, looking around at the tatters that were my clothes. I shove the coin back into my picket. First things first. "Accio buttons!" Eight buttons soar into my outstretched palm. I bend to pick up my shirt and mend it. Bellatrix takes the opportunity to slap my ass, hard, yanking an unwilling moan from my throat. "Where the fuck are you going?" She demands. "I have someone waiting in my office. This-" I motion to me and her and the cell. "Is just going to have to wait." Rage fills her features. "You come to me, in my cell, smelling like an alcohol pad, wanting to be hurt and now you're just leaving because someone is in your god forsaken office?" She shrieks and slaps me across the face. Fuck this. I grab her by the hair, roughly pulling her over to her cot. I force her to sit and open my slacks, I shove her hand in. I let her feel my desire for her. I grab her by the wrist, forcing her to stroke me. "Believe me when I say I am not happy about having to go." I snarl at her. "Don't forget your place, it's not up to you what is more important to the Warden." I pull her hand from me and she is left with a slick coating of me on her fingers, proof positive that I'm completely serious about what I came here for.

I turn back to my shirt, attaching the buttons to it again. I reach for my bra, but Bellatrix snags it from the floor before I can get my hands on it. She's laughing in that crazy way she has. "Give. Me. My. Bra." I don't have the fucking patience for this shit right now. "I'm going to keep it. You're keeping your guest waiting." My eyes widen at her. She's right. I guess I'm going braless, fuck it. I pull my shirt closed, thank goodness for working out; my breasts are nice and high, sitting where they belong regardless of their braless state. I tuck my blouse in and fasten the button on my slacks. Without a hair brush I cannot put my hair to rights, I'm just going to have to leave it down. I turn to leave. She stands in front of the cell door. She latches her mouth onto my exposed collar bone, sucking hard and god it feels so good that I want to stay, but I have to go. When she pulls away there is an angry red and purple mark to prove she's been there. This just gets better and better. I kiss her, hard. "I'm going to come back." I tell her. "If you earn it." Her face falls. No doubt she is wondering how to earn it. I walk through the doors to the supermax ward, greeting the guard stationed there.

I try my best to tidy myself up before I get to my office. It's not much and the starches and bite are obvious. I walk in to see Ginny Weasley… no Potter sitting in the chair across from my desk. The tight athletic body of the girl I once loved; my first now gone soft in places. Children will do that to a woman. She still looks absolutely beautiful. I feel a host of emotions flood through me. Love, hate, regret, sadness, disgust. "Hello Ginny." I say softly. She turns at the sound of my voice. I'm not surprised by the look she gives me. I see her assess each different part. My come fuck me hair, the scratches on my neck, the mark on my chest, and her gaze lingers on my chest, taking in the curves of my unrestrained breasts. She raises an eyebrow as if to say _your breasts are too large to not wear a bra._

_Hang on son of mine_

_The storm is blowing up your horizon_

_Changes come_

_Keep your dignity_

_Take the high road_

_Take it like a man_

"Are you alright?" She asks tentatively. "Sure, just been being _particular_." I say, shrugging. Her eyes widen. Fuck, why can't I control my mouth? Oh right, I just drank about two thirds of a bottle of fire whiskey on my own. "Are you drunk?" She asks sounding more than a little appalled. Yes bitch and you just interrupted me from getting laid for the first time in three god forsaken years. My eyes move to the nearly empty bottle sitting on my desk. No sense in trying to hide it now. She follows my gaze. "Don't give me that look of disapproval Gin; I have been of age for a few years now. I'm well within my rights to have a night cap." I tell her. She nods, clearly still judging me. Some things will always stay the same. "What can I help you with tonight?" I ask. "I never received a reply to my letter. I figured I would come and get one in person. Have you taken my advice? Are you allowing your guards to handle Lestrange?" She asks. She tried to make it sound like concern for my well-being but her eyes tell the truth. She looks me over again and the real question is clear. _Have you been fucking her? _Trying to dear old friend, but things keep getting in my way.

"Do you want me to say what you want to hear or would you prefer the truth?" I ask, stepping around my desk and sitting down. I put my bottle back below the desk. I turn my attention pointedly away from her face and down to my paperwork, shuffling through it. "Hermione…" I feel her fingertips touch my hands. Pure electricity, from my hand straight to my heart. She pulls her hand away. I look up, she felt it too. "I run my own prison the way I see fit. She is the most dangerous prisoner I have. My guards assist me in keeping her under control. If I may say so it seems that you're concern isn't purely for my safety." I say. "My concern is with the effect that… _woman _has on you." You mean she makes me wet? She makes me moan for her? I'm pretty alright with the effect that _woman_ has on me. I shake my head to clear the thoughts out if it. I can't keep my mind on the conversation. "How is Harry? The kids?" I ask. "Good, they miss you." She replies. This is irritating. "Can we just cut the pleasantries Ginny? What are you here for?" She looks as though I've slapped her. I'm making a lot of women look that way tonight. "To see you."

_Listen up son of mine_

_Mama got something to tell you_

_All about growing pains_

_Life will pound away_

_Where the light don't shine son_

_Take it like a man_

"Why?" It tastes like battery acid. Just that one word. Why does she want to see me? I'm everything she doesn't want to remember. "_I've _been missing you…" Ugh with the trailing off. I swear she does it on purpose; she isn't as delicate as she tries to make herself look. "Ginny, you have a family, a house, probably a cat or something. What's to miss? You got everything you wanted." I look up again to see blue eyes filled to the brim with tears. As though she practiced it one tear falls down her cheek. I soften. "Don't cry Ginny. Please." She inhales deeply, trying to compose herself. "Are you sleeping with her Hermione? Are you? I can't take wondering. I can't stand the thoughts. I think of how you came back to me after she did _that-" _she points to my scarred arm "to you. How she sent back a Hermione that wasn't _My _Hermione. She sent back something broken that still hasn't been fixed." She's completely right.

"What am I supposed to say Gin? You're right; we discussed this to death back then. I am not the same. I can't make myself be the same. You chose to move on. I don't blame you (y_es I do!_). You did what you had to. Fell in love with someone else, it's not like you cheated on me. This is the hand life dealt me." I hate to see her look like this. "I can't stop loving. I can't stop wishing that I had stayed. I wish that I had been smart enough to see that nothing was ever going to be what we were. I love Harry and I love my kids but I lie awake at night thinking about whose bed I _should _be in!" How long I've waited to hear those words. How much I once wanted to have her run back into my arms professing her mistakes, her love. She stands and leans over my desk pressing her lips against my cheek. Fire. Sweet fire. Fire that doesn't belong to me, fire that ought to be at home in bed with my best friend. She moves to kiss my mouth and I turn my face away from her. There goes that slapped expression again. Maybe I've gotten so good at really slapping people that I have taken it to the next level and I can do it without touching them, like wandless magic.

"You don't get to do this Ginny. You married my best friend. You have to be faithful to him. He saved the world after all. What woman would cheat on him with _me?_" My heart hardens. How dare she? "He would have died a thousand times if it weren't for you!" It's not the first time she has said this. I think back to days lying in her bed at the Burrow after making love. _You're so important. They have no idea what to do without you. You Know Who would win for sure if Harry didn't have your help. You're the greatest hope I have for a future… _A future? A past perhaps, I'm good at those. I stand and walk around to her, sitting in the second chair. I hold her hands.

_Suck it up son of mine_

_Thunder blowing up your horizon_

_Changes come_

_Keep your dignity_

_Take the high road_

_Take it like a man_

"Ginny Potter. Not Ginny Granger. Be loyal to your husband, go home and make love to him tonight, knowing that you couldn't have had something better with me." I tell her. My heart aches with each word. "I want to leave him, be with you." She sobs. "I know why you're really here. You don't want to leave your husband. You just don't want to see me with her." I spit. "Of course I don't want to see you with her! She ruined you! She took the wonderful woman I loved and turned her into… into… _YOU_!" I imagine I have the slapped expression on now. I don't know who this person sitting in front of me is, but it isn't the Ginny Weasley I once loved. This isn't her at all.

"I'll fuck who I want to fuck Mrs. Potter." I tell her, standing and walking back around my desk. I pour myself another shot. I offer her one. "No, I…" I look up. "You're…?" I already know what she is going to say. Her mother had seven of them after. "I'm pregnant." I smirk at her. "Harry against contraceptives then or are you? Tell me Ginny, do you like it better raw? Do you live for that moment when he shoots his wad off into you while you pant like a bitch in heat?" Tears again. "How are you supposed to leave a man you have two children and another bun in the oven with? Have you gone off the deep end? There is no chance of us ever being anything anymore. Do you think I want to poke Harry Potter's Child in the face? Am I supposed to raise his kids like I'm their dad? No. I fuck who I want and you lay on the bed, just a hole in the mattress. I told you back then that you were making a mistake. You chose the chosen one, his nerdy friend gets to be alone. You were supposed to stick with me though it all. You ran at the first sign that things might not be as neat and easy as you wanted. We could have figured it out! The time is long past now."

She stands. "I'm sorry I disturbed you tonight Hermione. I can see that you and I have nothing left to discuss. I'll see myself out." She does just that. "Give my best to the family!" I call after her. I ought to be a gentlewoman and see her to the apparation point outside, but I think I'll let her get there on her own. No one can apparate in or out of my office but me. Fuck if a long day didn't turn into a long fucking night. Where does she get off coming to my prison at this hour? She probably had to sneak away from Harry. Unreal. I never wanted to have to look at her child rearing hips again after the last time we had this argument. She's been this way since she discovered she was good looking, she thinks she can have anything she wants just because she wants it. The people she hurts be damned.

I made the mistake of letting her share my bed twice. She'll never leave Harry. Harry is stability, Harry is a good father, Harry provides, Harry is the bloody Chosen One. Nerdy side-kicks don't get the girl. It feels like my heart has been torn out again. I want more than ever to be back in Lestrange's cell getting fucked in ways I haven't even imagined. Instead I pour another shot. Probably better that I deprive her for a little longer. I swallow the final gulp of fire whiskey from my bottle. I'll feel this tomorrow, but I need the numb right now. I toss the empty bottle into the trash and begin my rounds. Work always makes me feel better after all. Plus I don't even have to check the supermax ward tonight, I was already there.

_Mama said Life awaits_

_Like a kidney stone_

_It's just a broken heart son_

_This pain will pass away_

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Next chapter in a day or two. Hit the review button, tell me how you love it.


	6. Please Please Please

The Warden and her Prisoner

Disclaimer: Not my characters.

A/N: OpheliaBlack, you win the best review ever award! I laughed for about fifteen minutes, stopped and read it again and cracked up again! In addition, I love every review! Thank you all for your interest. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I have a feeling its what you've been waiting for. =) The song in this chapter is Please Please Please by Head Automatica.

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**Chapter 6**

I wake up at my desk. No ideal. I do have a bed somewhere in an apartment, but lately it seems I wake up in it less and less. I may as well sell my flat at this point, turn a little profit. Oh god it's like death is camping out inside my skull. A whole bottle of fire whiskey will do it to you every time. I stand and immediately have to sit back down as a bout of nausea takes hold of my inner workings. Oh sweet Jesus. I look at my watch and it takes a full ten seconds for my eyes to focus enough to see the hands. 9 a.m. and I'm in my office, hungover, not laid, emotionally drained and out of fire whiskey, so there goes the hair of the dog theory. After a few deep breaths I think I can get up without vomiting. So I stand, my head throbbing and I walk over to my personal bathroom.

First things first, I open the mirror cabinet and pull out my toothbrush, toothpaste, floss and mouthwash. When it comes to oral cleanliness and breath I don't fuck around, dentist's daughter and all. I furiously attack the taste in my mouth. After about ten minutes I feel satisfied. Just that process alone can make a person feel brand new. I reach into the small shower stall and turn the water on so that it's scalding hot. I need to purge myself of last night, sweat out all of the toxicity. I pull my ruined clothes off and catch a look at myself in the mirror. Wow, she can't be me; she looks like a fucking train wreck. I step into the shower, steam filling my lungs. I later up my body. I let my own hands slip my slick soapy skin.

I clean myself slowly, paying close attention to each part. I shampoo my hair and once it's washed out I run conditioner through my locks. I let the conditioner set in and set to shaving my legs. When that's done I look down to the junction between my legs. After a moment's hesitation I take the razor to the trimmed hair there, ridding myself of it. I shave my armpits and wash the conditioner from my hair. When I come back out of the shower I feel brand new. I towel myself off and wrap it around myself. Since I have been staying here so often I keep a small wardrobe in the closet in the back of my office. I walk over to it and pull out a brown pencil skirt, a beige button up and brown leather boots. Pulling out a drawer I select off white cotton bra and panty set and rethink it, choosing a chocolate brown lace set instead.

Feeling clean, smelling clean, looking fresh like the produce section and ready to face the day. It feels like I've let all of my troubles slow down the drain. I neatly plait my hair down the back of my head. You learn very early on not to leave your hair loose when you work in a prison full of people who consider themselves better than you due to blood status. Blood status, what stupidity. It's like the Quidditch fans who boast because the team they support wins something. At the end of the day nothing was accomplished by the fan, no effort was put in and still they boast. What exactly did people like Bellatrix do to be pureblood? Nothing, they were just born. If anything their parents ought to get the credit and by credit I mean blame for hopelessly inbreeding and creating people like Lucius Malfoy. Fucking pathetic people. I find that privilege and status do not often make for person who is more interesting or intelligent than card board. But I digress. (Secretly I know Bellatrix is more interesting than card board. She might be the most interesting person I've ever met…)

What is today? Wednesday? I apparate into a small muggle neighborhood that I grew up near, landing behind a long hedge. I walk briskly down two streets, around a traffic circle and come to the house I'm looking for. It's a modest house, home to a beautiful blonde woman, her husband, their two children and a long running affair with yours truly. I check the time to make sure I have it right and of course I do, 9:45 to the minute. Her husband will have already been at his nine to five for close to an hour, her two precious kids off at school. Her neighbors know me as her 'best friend.' They greet me warmly and I smile friendly, waving. They think it's so sweet that we've been friends for so long; it warms their hearts to see two good friends having their weekly brunch. I exchange pleasantries in the normal fashion. How's your husband? Oh just lovely thank you. How is work? Same old, same old. She answers the door before I even knock; she was probably watching me walk up from her window. Do I see the parallel between this woman and Ginny? Of course, I'm not an idiot; I'm the brightest witch of my age. We hug, making a show of our 'great friendship' for her neighbors. I close the door behind me and she wraps her arms around me. Her lips eagerly seeking mine out.

It's a little strange for her to be this forward. Even though she's gotten over the shock that she is attracted to women, attracted to me she always wants me to be the aggressor. I run my hands down her body and it feels different than it did even last week. Changed. You've got to be kidding me. Increased libido, widened hips, gentle swell of stomach. "Is there anything you want to tell me?" I ask. She looks surprised, shaking her head. "What could I have to tell you…?" Wow, this one doesn't even know. This is a slap in the face from the universe, proving once again that it's my best and most reliable lover, never missing a chance to fuck me. "You're pregnant dear. You didn't know?" Her jaw drops and her eyes widen. "No, my period is just due in a few days." She shakes it off and tries to wrap herself around me again. "I can practically _smell _the hormones coming off you and they aren't the ones you get before your period. You're pregnant. Go to the store, get a test, let me know and if you're not I'll come back next week." Unbelievable. The hits just keep on coming. I leave her, mouth open, ready to catch flies. I don't fuck pregnant women, just not my style.

I apparate to my apartment when I get back to the hedge. The one I have very little need of. It doesn't feel much like home should feel. It's decorated exactly the way I wanted it. I did it all by hand and the ending product shows the care that went into it. Plush chocolate leather sofas, espresso colored coffee and end tables, shelves and shadow boxes with tasteful decorative pieces in or on them. I should love to spend a bit more time. I've never even fucked a woman in my own bed. Taking a woman here would be like suicide. The easiest part of having many conquests is that I always go to them and then when I don't want to go to them anymore they cannot find me. Not only does it make women more comfortable to go to their own home, they feel safer when they first meet a woman who wants to fuck them senseless, it keeps my identity a secret. Lately though, I'm feeling like I want to take someone in my own bed. I settle into my comfortable chair and open a new book. Fifty pages in I snap it shut. Murder mysteries these days, always have sex scenes in them. It's only 11 a.m. and I want to go to work already.

Instead I turn on the radio, easy listening. I drift into sleep. Blissful unconsciousness… Heat in my pocket. How long have I been out? I look at my watch. 3 p.m. That's a decent amount of sleep. I pull the coin out. Oh great. _Lestrange refusing food. Requests you_. I rub my eyes. Looking down I see that my outfit has been crumpled as I slept. I steam the clothes to get the wrinkles out, waving my wand up and down the outfit. I twirl my wand around my braid and the hairs pull themselves tight and sleek once more. I go into my bathroom to brush the sleep out of my mouth. At least I'm not feeling hungover anymore. Taking a look in the mirror and I'm satisfied with what I see. I apparate into my office, then click my way down to supermax.

DiLeon is on duty at the supermax doors. "What's going on with Lestrange?" I ask him. "She's refusing to eat. She says she wants to talk to someone who's in charge. Bloody annoying the hell out of us today. Keeps calling us blood traitors and other such trash. We know to call you when it comes to her since it's a sensitive situation. She's riling up the prisoners in supermax. The strange thing is they're all pissed that she's causing trouble. She's been getting death threats all day." I'm shocked. "Death threats?" I ask. He nods. "It seems the prisoners in supermax feel quite a bit of loyalty to you seeing as how you're the one who petitioned the ministry not to execute criminals and to do away with the Dementors. They know they owe their lives and sanity to you. It's taken a few years, but everything you've said has come to pass. We treat them humanely and they behave." I smile. "If we were to use the same amount of cruelty we were fighting against what type of witches and wizards would we be?" He nods. "I guess I'd best go see what this bitch wants then huh? Thank you for a job well done." I walk through the doors and to my favorite cell.

_You scream louder than fiction_

_And you get down on your knees_

_And tear open your heart _

_So I can love you and your disease_

Bellatrix Lestrange is lying on her cot, staring up at me. I stare back before waving my wand to open the cell. I step in and she sits up. I hear the cell door clank shut behind me. "Why aren't you eating?" I demand of her. "The food just doesn't look as appetizing when it isn't brought to me by you." I roll my eyes. She's so infuriating and at the same time I can't help being amused by her. "Listen, you can't give my guards such a hard time just to get to me, it's going to get you into trouble with the other prisoners." I inform her. "Oh you mean the death threats? I was the second in command to the Dark Lord. Everyone in here is a kitten next to me. I would like to see one of them try. Plus, you have them all so under your thumb that they wouldn't step a toe out of line would they?" Now I can't help but smile. "Well Lestrange, I'll give you points for gall, but the prisoners do at times defy me, they're disciplined for it, but we both know discipline is a counter action, it won't stop them from hurting you. It's over a year since the last incident that took place in this prison. That makes me look very good; if you ruin that for me I'll be very upset. You won't need to strike for hunger; I'll give it to you in abundance." She responds with one of her crazy sounding cackles.

"You can't threaten me Warden. In your 'humane' facility there is nothing you can do to me that I haven't suffered before, probably things I've suffered much worse than. I've been in this prison Warden, before it was humane." She's right. No matter how I hate to admit it she is. "Lestrange, we could sit here and argue all day, but let's just get to the point. You went on a hunger strike to get me here to talk to you. What did you want to say?" She smirks wildly at me. She takes three steps closing the space between us and puts her hands on my hips. She pulls me against her, untucking my blouse from my skirt. She slides her hands up my sides and rakes her nails back down. "Who said I wanted you here to talk?" Mmm. I'll hand it to her, she knows how to play. "So you think you've earned it then? By going hungry to get me here? Juvenile for a grown woman wouldn't you say?" She presses her lips to my neck. "Tantrums have always been my strong suit." She says between bites on the tender flesh of my throat. "Well, we did get interrupted last night…" I say lamely as if my behavior is excusable.

_You lick the hand that feeds you _

_And kiss the blade that cuts_

_I wanna fuck you in your God's hands_

_When your praying bites the dust_

"Are you going to hurt me Lestrange?" I whisper. She pulls my blouse over my head. "Yes." She says before pushing me backward into a wall. "I'm going to need a few things Warden." She says sweetly. "Such as?" I ask. I'm not sure I like the sound of this. "Well, I'll need a small knife-"

"No." Is this woman insane?

"How am I supposed to cut you?" She asks. I guess she is insane. "You aren't supposed to cut me. I wasn't born yesterday. If I give you a knife; you'll kill me or escape. No." She pouts. "Restraints?" I think this one over. I conjure up a few scarves. They are thin and if I need to I can tear through them and escape, but I don't tell her that. "How about rings to tie them to on the wall?" I shiver and point my wand at the far wall, producing what she asked for. "Anything else?" She ponders for a few moments. "Have you even been with a man?" She asks. I snort. Ridiculous. "No." I answer dryly. She circles me. "You asked me how long it had been since I was bedded, I'm asking the same." Damn. "A… a long time." I stammer.

She runs her nails down my back and undoes my skirt. "What is a long time Warden?" She coos into my ear. I groan. "Three years." I finally confess. She laughs at me. "You sure know how to fuck for someone who doesn't take it." She says. "What bearing does any of this have on whether or not you need anything else. Restrains and a place to tie to is about to be all you get if you don't get to the point." She laughs again. "Very well Warden. I would like a strap-on dildo." She says and I'm taken aback. The idea excites and scares me. I've only ever had fingers, sure I've used toys before, but it's a lot less terrifying on the giving end.

I conjure a five inch long strap on. "Oh is that all you think you can take Warden? How can I make is hurt with this?" She sneers. I point my wand at it and it extends to seven inches, as much as I'm willing to try for now. "That's better." She says. She sits on the bed looking at me expectantly. I raise an eyebrow at her. "What?" She crosses her legs and leans back on her hands. "Strip." She says simply.

_Please Please Please Please_

_Please Please Please Please_

_Let me anoint the lust inside you_

_Please Please Please Please_

_Please Please Please Please_

_Let me devalue what's inside you_

This doesn't bother me at all. I've been naked in front of hundreds of women. I pull my skirt down my legs, since she already undid the clasp in the back. I bend to take my boots off but she stops me. "Turn around." She says simply. I do and continue taking off my boots, feeling her stare at my barely clothed ass. "Very nice." She compliments and I feel myself blush. It's going to take a bit of time to get used to not being in control. I hear her moving behind me and turn my head. Her hand comes down hard across my ass. "I didn't tell you to turn back around." I hiss at the feeling. I feel warmness flood me down below. Her footsteps hit the floor softly, but I know she's coming closer to me. I feel every nerve anticipate her.

Her fingers expertly unclasp my bra and it fall off of my ample chest. She discards it. Her hands begin at my shoulders, caressing down my back, her fingers hook into the band of my panties and she pulls them down roughly. She pushes me to the wall where I've conjured the rings. She turns me around roughly, eyeing me from head to toe. "See something you like?" I ask smirking. I've worked hard on my body. I'm sleek and solid. "It'll do." She says but I can see hunger in her eyes. She grabs my left arm, the one she scarred and ties it to the ring. She kisses the slightly fresher bite marks I had her leave yesterday. She ties my other arm up and surveys me again looking satisfied. Her gaze comes to rest between my thighs, I can feel the moisture there on my inner thighs already and I know she can see it. "All for me Warden?" She sneers. She dips her finger between my folds and sucks air in through her teeth. "Oh my Warden." I moan. I want so much.

She pulls of her tan garb and pulls off her panties, leaving her bra. She lets me watch her step into the harness and fasten it. Bellatrix Lestrange is now sporting a rather impressive erection. "All for me 93?" I tease. She laughs. "Tell me Warden, why has it been so long? You're not exactly bad looking after all." She unbraids my hair as she speaks, dismantling Warden Granger and exposing Hermione Granger. "Honest truth?" I ask. She nods with an eyebrow cocked. "I've tried other woman, scores of other women…" She takes my breast in her hand and kneads it. She tires of that and runs a sharp fingernail over my nipple. She looks up at me. "Yes and?" She asks. "Well I've had beautiful women, ugly women, thin women, fat women, masochistic women, vanilla women, sadistic women and…" I don't want to say this. "And?" She prods, getting impatient. "And none of them made me feel as good as you did that day you cut my arm." I finally confess.

Her eyes widen. "What?" She asks. "I've been waiting for you to get caught for four years so that I could feel the way you made me feel that day." I say. She nods and presses her thigh between my legs, letting me feel the strap on against my leg. I moan. She pulls my hair and it feels so good. "Well, I'd better make it good then." She sneers. She lifts my right leg and wraps it about her hips, gripping my right hip to hold it in place. She slides the dildo up and down my slit, teasing at my entrance and I take a deep breath, readying myself for something I've never experienced. She slides into me, slow and shallow and it's like fire. I haven't ever been stretched this way; I might as well be a virgin all over again. After a few short strokes she begins to fuck me more fully, burying the dick in me to the hilt. My god it feels so good. Pressing outward on every inch of me inside. She lifts my second leg and I have to grip on the rings hard, holding myself up as she stands still, pulling my hips forward, and forcing me to take her deeper. She isn't holding back now. With each thrust my back scrapes against the stone wall and I can feel a tiny network of scratches developing on my back. It is the most exquisite pain and pleasure I've ever felt. I realize that I am moaning wantonly into her ear. Her nails break the skin on my hips. She bites on the flesh of my neck. "Open your eyes." She demands. I open them and she is staring intently at me. I'm tearing my bottom lip apart with my teeth and I can taste blood.

She snakes her tongue into my mouth, her kisses are frenzied. After a minute I feel like I'm suffocating. It's hard work to concentrate on holding myself up, kissing, breathing, the scratches on my back, the dick working my walls. It's too much, I bite her tongue and she gasps, pulling away finally and I breathe deep. I feel my body convulsing. I'm lightheaded, so dizzy. Her hand comes off my left hip and I have to hold myself even harder on the rings, she slaps me to break the fog filling my mind and makes me concentrate on what she is doing to me. I begin to come, my own walls pulling and clenching the dick, much the way hers did to my hand yesterday. My head turns from side to side and I understand why being restrained is such a simply but terrible torture, I want nothing more than to cling to this woman's body for dear life as my orgasm slams through me, but I have to hold myself up.

Finally, I'm spent. She pulls from me and takes the strap on off. To my surprise she unties me on her own; I don't even have to demand it of her. My legs and arms are so weak that I fall to the floor of her cell. She laughs at me. She turns to her cot and I catch a look at the cuts I left on her with the riding crop yesterday, they look beautiful. She pulls her clothes back on. I grab my wand and perform a cleaning spell on myself before dressing. I feel crippled. I'm limping a bit, sore. I imagine I'm walking the way she walked yesterday after her punishment.

"I'm really quite famished now Warden." She says as if nothing just happened and I'm happy for that. I don't want to have to talk about this right now. I smile at her. "Hunger strike over already?" I ask. She smiles back. "That was quite a work out." I laugh. "You're telling me." I say. "I'll have your meal sent up." I say, putting myself to rights. I feel like a huge stress has been taken from me. My back is a mess, my lip is open and my hair is sticking to my forehead. I can't go out there looking like this. DiLeon will know something happened. I neaten my hair and suck hard on my lip, forcing it to stop bleeding. I look back at her once. "Thank you." I tell her. "Just come back tomorrow." She says. "You don't give the orders here." I tell her. "I'm still your Warden." I tell her and her jaw drops. She thought she was going to get some power here.

What a funny woman. I head back to my office after telling DiLeon that he can have a meal sent up to Lestrange. I collapse into my chair and begin working on paperwork. What a good afternoon.

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I hope you enjoyed! Hit that button, tell me how you love it!


	7. Dirty Fiction

The Warden and her Prisoner

Disclaimer: Neither the characters nor the lyrics in this chapter belong to me.

A/N: Thank you all for the reviews, they are much appreciated! They keep me wanting to write more for you all. The song used in this chapter is called Sound System by Head Automatica. Might be a couple of days for another chapter, plot development and all. But heres some smut in the meantime! Enjoy!

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**Chapter 7**

What a night. Making my rounds was difficult. Having to walk in front of Bellatrix's cell and see the glint in her eye was incredibly difficult. The desire to open the cell and tell her to just do it to me again, at least two more times was overwhelming, but I am a professional and I made it through, but not without reaching through the bars of her cell to run my thumb across her lower lip, surprised by my own tenderness. She snapped at my thumb, biting it playfully and I walked away pleased. After the overnight speech Henry came to my office again with an apology and promise that she wouldn't let the situation escalate in the workplace. Over all I am feeling pretty good. The only loose end is Ginny, but that's an end that will never be tied up I'm starting to think. I can only hope that she will leave me alone.

Today is Thursday. I see my parents on Thursdays. The day after the war was over I went back and put my parents' memories back in order, place me back in their lives. It was a tearful and happy reunion, filled with explaining and happiness. I had missed them so much during the war. After spending a year with Harry and Ron in a variety of forests and dangerous situations, including the one that put me in my current position I was ready to get back home and see Mum and Dad. I take a look at my desk, pleased with the state it's in, that is no papers left unread, no issues left unaddressed. I apparate to my old bedroom in my parent's home. They've grown accustomed to me showing up this way. They never have to answer the door for me and I have a safe place, out of the eye shot of muggles to apparate to. I walk down the stairs taking in the frames with my image, unmoving, staring back at me.

_In my home_

_They put so many pictures of me_

_ And I live_

_In hopes that I can live up to me_

_And I'm just_

_As grim as I could possibly be_

_In my head_

_Where the saddest king reigns supreme_

I make my way to the sitting room where my mother is already setting out tea and toast. I catch a look at myself in the mirror and note the raw scratches, the love marks. After an 'oh shit' moment I cast a very quick concealment charm on everything visible. I plaster a smile on my face and for once it doesn't feel so forced. I'm really feeling good and relaxed. Who knew what an earth-shattering orgasm could do for a person's disposition? I walk into the sitting room. "Good morning Mum." She turns with the smile I've loved since I was a child. "Good morning sweetheart, my look at you! You're positively glowing!" She says, embracing me and kissing my cheeks. I feel my cheeks flush. Imagine the look on her face if I told her it was because yesterday afternoon I was fucked senseless by the woman who mutilated my arm. As much as my mother supports me in all that I do I doubt her answer to that would be 'well whatever makes you happy dear.' There is a line that one cannot cross.

"Thanks mum, I got a lot of sleep yesterday for once." I answer and she is pleased with the answer. "I've been telling your father that I worry for those hours you keep. I know that night must be the time the prison needs the Warden most, but I fear for the effect it has on your health. I've seen you staring into space dear and you don't look like the happiest camper." She says, pouring tea. I sit in my favorite chair. "Yes, I've been making a genuine effort to sleep more Mum. I don't want to fall sick. There's no back up Warden after all." I say and chuckle. My father walks in and I stand to embrace him. I've always been daddy's girl. I breathe in the scent of him, gently masculine. When I came out my father took it in with calm acceptance. I told him simply that he was the only man in my life. "How are you my sweet?" He asks and I smile. "I'm really well Dad, how are you?" He chuckles amused with what he is going to say before he says it. "Well, no one has bitten my lately, so I suppose I'm doing well." He replies. Oh Daddy, if only you knew how I've been being bitten, and enjoying it. I chuckle along with him and my mother is smiling contentedly.

My mind wanders to the events that have transpired over the last two days. Particularly yesterday afternoon. I've never felt anything like it. The junction between my legs is deliciously sore, indicative of the activities I've been taking part in. I realize that my parents are looking at me expectantly. Damn. "I'm sorry, my mind wandered, what did you ask?" I say, keeping it light. My parents smile. "Oh Hermione, you're always off somewhere, no matter where you are." My mother says cheerfully. I smile. If you knew that my mind was between the legs of a now captured Death Eater. "We were asking if you had anyone special dear." My father says. What a loaded question. "Uh, no, not really at the moment." I cringe. "We don't mean to pry dear, we just want to see you happy." My mother assures me.

_ This time I wanna find _

_A hope in me as big as _

_The stars in my eyes _

_This time I wanna find _

_A hope in me as big as _

_The stars in my eyes_

The rest of breakfast goes much more smoothly and thank Merlin for that. We share a heartfelt goodbye and I head to my apartment to sleep. I walk to my bed today rather than sleeping on my sofa. I pull the heavy curtains (an essential to anyone working overnight) and tuck myself snugly into bed. I'm just beginning to drift off when I feel the coin heat up. You have got to be kidding me. The first word is all I need to see. _Lestrange._ I apparate directly to the supermax ward. Saunders asks if I want to be briefed and I decline, bursting through the doors in my robe and slippers. I walk into her cell and I am livid. "What the fuck is it?" I demand of her and I think there might just be steam issuing from my ears. She opens her mouth to speak and I cut her off. "Can a woman not sleep? Did you think I wouldn't be back later? Did you think that there is truly anything urgent enough that I should be taken from my bed to come and deal with it?" She's taken aback.

"Warden, I-"My hand across her face stops her. Her face turns back to me and I can see the imprint of three of my fingers across her face. Immediately I feel a bit of regret. I didn't need to hit her that hard. I'm not sure where the softness comes from. I don't really want to examine it; I'm far too tired to. I look up at her and rather than angry she looks intrigued. "What emotion was that you just had on your face Warden?" She's far too smart for my tastes. "Regret." I reply. I take a few steps toward her and run my hand across her abused cheek. "I'm sorry I hit you." I say. She shrugs. "You get a pass for being tired. Anyway I caused a scene to get you here so that I could point out that you never got rid of the things we used here. The day guard who does rounds will see them and since I have no wand I cannot help you with that." I'm shocked. She is trying to help me. My cheeks flush.

I wave my wand and everything is gone. "Thank you." I say. She smirks at me. "Don't go thinking it was for your benefit now Warden. If you get into some sort of scandal and decide to back off, there goes me getting to play." I roll my eyes. "Well thank you anyway." My Mum and Dad taught me to be gracious even when someone isn't. "How are you going to make it up to me?" She asks slyly, looking down at her fingernails like they're interesting. "Make it up to you?" I ask quizzically. "You slapped me rather hard when I had good intentions." She says and she's right.

_Our hearts _

_Our hearts _

_Breathe the same as dirty fiction _

_Look the same as dirty fiction _

_Honestly _

_Our hearts _

_Our hearts _

_Breathe the same as dirty fiction _

_Look the same as dirty fiction _

_Honestly_

I walk toward her and push her backward toward the cot. How to make it up to her? I open my robe, revealing a pale blue teddy. Her eyes show their appreciation. She slides her hands up my outer thighs and over my hips. She cocks an eyebrow at the fact that I'm not wearing any underclothes. "What? I was going to sleep." I say laughing. "I didn't take you as one to sleep bare Warden." She says. "Well I am. What of it?" I retort. She smirks. "I stand corrected." I push her hands back down and out of my nightgown. She pouts like a small child and she's actually quite endearing when she wants to be. I give her a Tsk tsk. "No pouting. I could have apparated back to my bed and left you here alone and I didn't." I've seen her masochistic side and she's seen my at my most volatile. I think a bit of submissive softness is in order. I can't help but wonder when she last had some softness. I sink to my knees before her and pull her tan trousers down. She looks as surprised as I imagined she would but pleased at me on my knees.

Reaching up, I slide my hand around her neck, pulling her down to me and kissing her violently. I can't lie; there is a modicum of gratitude in the kiss. Whether or not her intentions were pure is inconsequential when she saved my reputation regardless. I moan sweetly into her mouth and she groans, sending vibrations through my mouth. I grab her shirt by the hem and pull it up, breaking the kiss just for a moment to get the garment over her head. We resume our round of mouth tango until we mutually pull back and my lips are throbbing from the force of it. I unhook her bra and it falls off, I toss it to the end of the cot and take one of her nipples between my lips, rolling it and flicking my tongue out at irregular intervals, keeping her guessing, gasping, surprised. Releasing her nipple, I nip at the tender underside of her breast before giving the other breast the same treatment.

I can tell she is out of her element. She's accustomed to either hurting people or being hurt. She squirms looking almost uncomfortable. "Can you be a little less gentle?" She groans. I look up at her. "I'm feeling sort of gentle at the moment." I say. "Why?" Genuine curiosity. "Whether or not you meant to you protected me today." I reply, keeping it simple. She laughs. "I suppose so." She says. "But that doesn't mean you have to treat me delicately." I smirk up at her. "I don't think you understand. You still woke me when I was just getting to sleep, I'm still angry and so you'll come, but I'm going to make it hard for you by being gentle." Her eyes widen. It's such fun to be a bitch.

_In my home_

_They put so many pictures of me_

_And I stand_

_Alone upon on a hill of debris_

_And I've seen_

_As much as I could possibly see_

_In the land_

_Of blind the one-eyed man is the king_

I nudge her back to lean on her hands again, arching her back gently. I place kisses down her quivering stomach. It's a bit amusing to see how nervous it makes her to have someone make love sweetly to her. I grasp the waistband of her cotton panties and pull, she lifts her ass a bit to let them slip off and I smile. I place a few kisses and bites across her lower body, from one jutting hip bone to the other, though she's been eating full meals for the last few days, that fact has yet to make itself pronounced on her body, she looks something like a refugee. I grasp her hips and pull her closer to the edge of the bed and dip my tongue between her legs. Her taste is clean and somehow spicy/sweet. Her scent fills me and my head spins. I don't do this for my conquests. The last woman I did this for was Ginny and she was very different from this dark witch above me. I shake thoughts of Ginny from my head. When dining in a five star restaurant one shouldn't think of a fast food joint.

I don't worry on the fact that it's been over three years since I've done this, I imagine it's quite like riding a bicycle, something one never forgets. The word riding makes me think of the riding I did yesterday and I slide my tongue up her slit with enthusiasm. She shivers and squirms, not quite knowing how to handle it. I push in past her outer lips and my tongue flashes over that sweet spot, that bundle of nerves. She sits bolt upright, pulling me away from her. My eyes flash dangerously at her and I push her hard back down. "I'll restrain you if I have to." I say. She smiles at the idea. "I wish you would." I roll my eyes. "How about instead you try to be a big girl and show a little self-restraint?" I reply and her lips purse at the suggestion. "I have excellent self-restraint." She says, her shoulders set squarely. "Prove it." I reply before dipping my tongue to her center once more.

I start slowly, letting her get accustomed to the feel of it. Slowly her hips begin to respond to my attention. She begins to thrust her hips slowly toward me, anticipating the next touch. Without warning I slide two fingers into her, she moans at the change, the feel of my inside her. I set a nice paced rhythm with my fingers inside her and my tongue devoting its attention to her clit. I feel her hand in my hair again, for a moment I think she is going to pull my away again, but instead she latches onto me and pulls me in closer. I smile against her and pick up the pace. Her hips begin to thrust with a bit more abandon. My tongue is an artist on her canvas, circles, figure 8's, up, down, left to right, diagonally, everything I can do to get this woman off.

_This time I wanna find_

_A hope in me as big as_

_The stars in my eyes_

_This time I wanna find_

_A hope in me as big as_

_The stars in my eyes_

She begins to moan frantically and after waiting until the last possible moment I start to slam my fingers into her, giving her what she wants. A hard fuck to ride out. Her sounds turn from sweet to carnal as she pulls harder on my hair, pressing me against her so that I can't breathe and if I'm going to die at least this will be an amazing way to go. When I sit around with all of the other should and we discuss how we died my story should be the envy of all. _I died pleasuring a woman._ Her orgasm tears through her, her head thrown back, her right hand buried in my hair, her left hand viciously kneading her own breast and she looks beautiful. When her walls stop clenching my fingers I withdraw them smoothly, continuing to lick her softly, taking in as much of her unique taste as I can. She rides the aftershocks of her orgasm on my tongue and finally her fingers in my hair loosen their vice grip.

I stand and pull my robe back on. I pass her the scattered clothing and she looks up at me. "What is it?" I ask. "Do you think you could do a quick cleaning spell… down there?" She asks. I allow my eyes to move _down there _and note that her thighs are shining. I smirk at her. "I suppose I could offer a bit of assistance." I reply and with a fast flick of my wand she is clean. She begins to put her clothes on. "What? No gratitude? I could have left you a sticky, wanton mess. Surely you can muster up a thank you for that." She looks up at me. "I didn't think you liked me for my manners." She says. I laugh full on. "Oh, I don't _like _you." I tell her. "I like fucking you. It's different." That slapped look. I'm certain now that I am slapping people without touching them; I've somehow developed a handless slap. "I don't like you either Warden. I'm glad we have that cleared up." She walks over to me. She grabs my left arm and traces the scar with her fingers. "This is all you'll ever be to me. No matter what your position is Warden." She says. This is a comfortable exchange for the two of us. We're confirming that we are no romantically involved, just physically.

I nod at her and she smirks. "Thanks for the fuck." She says and walks back over to her cot, lying down with her hands behind her head. "Thanks for depriving me of sleep." I reply, the words dripping with sarcasm. "So tell me, what sort of scene did you cause to get me here?" She laughs. "Now you care?" Come to think of it, I don't really care, but I need to know what sort of disciplinary action should have been taken due to the pretenses under which she got me here. "Sure, you could say that." I reply. "I sharpened my plastic knife from dinner and threatened to shank your guard at the door when he came near the cell. I couldn't let him see the things that were in here. I knew he would call you immediately." She says as if it's no big deal. I stare at her in wide eyed disbelief. "You threatened my guard?" I ask incredulously. "Yes." She says smiling. "Give me the plastic knife." I say and she pulls it from under her pillow and tosses it to me. The tip is menacingly pointed. She could have hurt me with this while I was vulnerably below her. Not killed me, but certainly shanked me with it, but she didn't. "I like fucking you." She says as if my thoughts were written across my face. I turn to her cell door and walk through it, locking it securely behind me. "Yes well I'm going to have to punish you properly for this." I say holding up the plastic knife. "I look forward to it." She says, cackling in that crazy way of hers. I don't doubt she does.

_It's a mystery how I keep my head_

_Over water and out of bed_

_And it's a wonder how I keep my feet_

_On the ground and walking under me_

I walk back through the supermax door after having cleaned my face of her scent and closing my robe. I make a show of looking tired and angry for the guard at the door. I hand him the plastic knife and thank him for a job well done. He smiles and thanks me. I assure him that should he need anything further I will be on call. He surveys me and tells me that he would rather I got some sleep. I completely agree with him and apparate back to my bedroom. Though I'm exhausted I have some trouble getting to sleep. I have a certain prisoner on my mind. I finally drift to sleep, clinging my second pillow, kind of wishing it were here I were clinging to and falling asleep. I shake the thought from my head. It's an insane thought. Sweet unconsciousness floods my mind…

_Our hearts_

_Our hearts_

_Breathe the same as dirty fiction_

_Look the same as dirty fiction_

_Honestly_

_Our hearts_

_Our hearts_

_Breathe the same as dirty fiction_

_Look the same as dirty fiction_

_Honestly_

* * *

Like I said, plot coming next chapter. I have two directions I imagine taking this fic in and I need to decide which. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. As always hit that review button, tell me how you love it!


	8. No Beginning

The Warden and her Prisoner

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, any characters or The Final Cut by Coheed and Cambria.

A/N: I've been busy with work. I finally chose the direction this story is going to take. This chapter is an unavoidable evil, the filler, chapter, the set-up for what's to come. Get through this and the next one is exciting again, I swear! Thank you all for the reviews! I hope this chapter is enjoyable regardless of its PG 13 rating.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_In the final curtain call,_

_You left me here with the coldest of feelings,_

_Weight, kind, depression,_

_Blessing the floors with the places you've stepped in_

When I wake up I see that an owl has left a letter on my bedside table. I reach over and blink the sleep out of my eyes. I open it up and see the familiar, messy scrawl that I used to spend hours trying to read while correcting Ron's homework. I smile, feeling a bit of nostalgia. Though I have a passion for my job, I truly miss the old days in school. I miss the days of endless reading. I miss the days of sitting in the common room and sneaking out. I miss the smell of the grounds in the fall. I think sometimes I even miss risking my life at every turn. I sigh and turn my attention to the letter.

_Mione,_

_I know how busy you can be. I'm writing just to remind you that Lily's birthday party is tomorrow. Be bloody awful if you were missing, everyone is looking forward to seeing you. I hope you're doing well. We'll catch up tomorrow. Don't do anything dangerous in Azkaban. Ginny keeps going on about how she's worried about that madwoman Lestrange, be careful with her._

_Ron_

Oh Shit. Oh fuck. A Weasley family dinner. I'm obligated to one a year. It used to be two until I was finally able to convince Molly that I didn't want birthday parties anymore. She still doesn't know why and I'm not about to explain. I visualize the look on her face if she found out. Well Mrs. Weasley, I used to be in love with your daughter. Then one day while attempting to save the world Harry, Ron and I were caught by snatchers. We were taken to Malfoy Manor. There Bellatrix Lestrange carved the word _Mudblood _into my arm. And well… I liked that so much that I realized I'm a sado-masochist. Ginny wasn't into it and so she left me. Now she's with Harry and they have kids and shit. So, that's why I don't really want to come around anymore.

I think about Lily. She's a sweet child. It's hard to see her because she looks so very much like Ginny, but that wasn't up to her. Holding the pain I felt because of her mother against her is incredibly unfair. I'm going to make an effort to be a better Godmother. I smile. Getting laid is doing wonders for my disposition. I apparate quietly to my childhood bedroom in my parent's house. I listen for a few moments and hear nothing. They aren't home. I walk over to the bookshelves and squat. I organized these books myself as I grew up. The books progress from bottom to top, separated by the age I was when I got them. I select a few of my favorites from age three. _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_, classic. _Where the Wild Things Are, _an old standby at bedtime. After browsing for a few minutes I finally choose to add _Green Eggs and Ham_ and _The Giving Tree._ I can't help but smile when thinking of these books.

I sit at the desk I spent years reading at. I pull a page of stationary and a quill. I dip my quill into some special ink I loved to use when I was twelve. The ink glitters and transitions between the colors of the rainbow as words are written. It's whimsical and fun. A three year old girl will love it. I'm trying to make sure that the gift I give this sweet child is unique and well thought out. I'm giving from the heart. I select from a shelf the _Glo Worm_ that I slept with as a child. With a flick and swish of my wand it looks brand new. I modify it slightly to make batteries unnecessary, ensuring that the light will never go dead. I write a letter to Lily and use a spell that is similar to muggle lamination. I place the books and worm in a box, wrap it and tie a bow around it. The end result is a lovely tasteful looking gift, something I'm known for.

I write a quick thank you note to Ron using black ink and plain parchment. I express excitement to see him and everyone else. I'd like to become Hermione Granger again, leave the Warden in her prison. It has been four years since Ginny left me and I really should be over it. I should be happy for Harry; he got everything he always wanted. He had no real family growing up, now that we're grown there is nothing he deserves more. I just hate his choice of a wife. I shake my head. I do not want that woman anymore, I should think of her as though she was never even mine. From this moment forward I will think of Ginny Potter as nothing more than 'My friend Harry's Wife.'

_Will they ever measure up,_

_To the way you left me here by the roadside,_

_The bloodiest cadaver,_

_Marked in your words, I'm the joke, I'm the bastard_

* * *

I walk up to the Burrow. They fixed it quite nicely. It's even more tilty than it used to be, which is how they like it, I think. Molly walks out to greet me. She takes my face in her thick hands. We discuss how much I change every time we see one another. I tell her she hasn't changed since the day I met her and give her a wink. She blushes good-naturedly and thanks me. The look in her eyes says that she is still sore over me not becoming her daughter-in-law. Sorry Molly, your daughter left me and I just don't love your son that way. She takes the gift from my arms and ushers me inside.

"Look everyone! Hermione is here!" She exclaims and many eyes turn to me. Molly places the gift on the table with all the rest. I smile and for once it's reaching my eyes. I can't help wondering where my good spirits have come from. I think of Bellatrix and the idea that she makes me happy is almost enough to make me shudder. It can't be that. I'm sure it isn't that. I'm just in good spirits after having turned Ginny's offer down. Yes, that's it, surely. I just got the weight of my pregnant ex off my chest and I can breathe a bit more easily.

"Hi everyone." I say, smiling. I hug Ron, give his lovely wife a kiss on the cheek. I hug Harry for a long time. It doesn't feel awkward for the first time in years. I go through the motions. Tossing each of the children into the air and catching them. Finally Ginny walks in with Lily in tow. The child's eyes brighten and she runs for me. I catch her and swing her around in the air, truly happy to see her. I note the adorable freckles across her scrunched nose, see the flecks in her green eyes, notice things about her that I neglected due to my own pain. Lily is a sweet and beautiful little girl who is looking more and more like Harry as she grows and I find a love for my Goddaughter that should have been there from the start.

"Hi Aunt Herminy." She says and I laugh. I set her down on the floor and take in her thin, long frame. She is wearing a small rhinestone tiara in her tamed-for-the-occasion red hair. Her dress is a bright purple with lace and frills.

"Is this my little Lily?" I ask. "You can't be her! She isn't nearly as big as you are! Where is she?" I jest and look around the room as if searching for the real Lily. Everyone in the room is smiling as she pulls on the hem of my burgundy dress. I look down at her. "We can talk in just a second, I'm looking for Lily." I say and continue the search.

"But, I. Am. Lily!" She huffs, while tugging on my hem a bit more. I look down at her in faux surprise.

"You are?" I ask. She nods enthusiastically and I smile. "Well you've gotten so big and infinitely prettier than the last time I saw you if that's even possible!" I say and she blushes, flashing a Harry Potter smile at me. I pick her back up and give her a hug. "Happy third birthday dear." I tell her and she squeezes back with all the urgency a three year old body can muster. I put her back down. "Well if you're Lily, than this must be for you." I say, motioning to the table of gifts. Her eyes widen and she makes a bee line for the table.

"Which on is from you, Aunt Herminy?" She asks eagerly.

"Can you guess?" I ask. She circles the table and I can almost hear her thought process as she passes each gift that isn't from me. _This package is lumpy so it's from grandma. _I imagine her thinking as she goes. _This one is big so it's from Mum and Dad. This one is wrapped in the same paper Uncle Ron used at Albus' birthday. _Finally she stops at my gift, tastefully wrapped in iridescent white paper with a velvet purple bow and points to it. "Are you sure?" I ask. She nods. "Of course, you're right." I say and she giggles with glee. She turns to Ginny.

"May I open Aunt Herminy's gift now Mum, Please?" Ginny looks a bit put out. She says something about waiting for cake, but Lily works her over and she gives in. Lily pulls hard on the bow and it slides off. She tears the paper neatly and pulls it off gently, not wanting to ruin it. Finally she gets to the box and opens the top. She pulls out the Glow Worm with a smile. "What's this?" She asks. I reach over and press the toy around the middle. It lights up and plays a lullaby. Her eyes widen. "I've never seen anything like that before! Thank you!" She shrieks and looks back into the box. She pulls the letter I tucked in there up with the bundle of books. She looks at the covers and quizzically up at me. I take the note and read it to her.

_Little Miss Lily,_

_These books are stories from my childhood. I read them with my Mum when I was as small as you are now. They are muggle stories, so I know you haven't heard them before. Part of the gift is a promise that you Aunt Hermione will come and be the one to read them with you, all you have to do is have your Mum or Dad send an owl and I'll be right here._

_With love,_

_Aunt Hermione _

This gets a few "awws" from the room and Lily is pleased as punch. "You'll really come and read them to me?" She asks. I assure her that I will. She hugs me tight and I feel really good about things for the first time in a long time. I'm doing right by Lily and Harry. It was not their fault that Ginny left me. I cannot be mad at the people who did not cause me any misery. After this exchange we sit down for food. The kids play games in the yard. After cake the adults sit around the table in the kitchen enjoying coffee and catching up. Somehow the conversation turns to my new and most famous prisoner.

"I wish I had cursed that woman into oblivion that night." Molly says. I nod, not really feeling too badly that she didn't. "I cannot believe that she survived. I put so much feeling into the curse, but it must have just knocked her out. I can't think of any other explanation. Perhaps it simply isn't in me to kill a person, just seriously harm them. Had I known that she was still alive I may have gone back and finished the job. I don't know if I regret it or if I thank Merlin that I've still never killed a person." She says and sighs. "But if anyone deserves to suffer it is _that woman._" She finishes. The room fills with sounds of agreement. _That woman._ That woman who has taken over my sanity. That woman who has awakened things in me. That woman who has touched parts of me I didn't even know were there. I'm beginning to enjoy the company of _that woman_ more than I like to admit. I'm shaken out of my thoughts by the silence in the room. I immediately wipe any look I may have off my face.

"I'm sorry. I worked late, what were we saying?" I manage to say, and pretend to stifle a yawn. Everyone visibly calms. I suppose the look on my face was not appropriate in their minds for the subject at hand. Hearing that my mind was elsewhere with the pleased look makes everyone forget about it. All but Ginny. She is eyeing me furiously. I stare her dead in the eye, daring her to say something about it. Daring her to ruin her three year old daughter's birthday party to confront me in front of everyone. She excuses herself and asks me to accompany her upstairs. No one takes any sort of notice of us leaving. No one knows our past. Not even Harry.

We climb the stairs to her old room. The smells and sights, the spiraling staircase making me dizzy, all of it is too familiar and too distant. I feel both nostalgic and detached all at once. Is this the sign that you've finally gotten over your ex? When memories press in on you, but they don't make you feel as though your skin is on backwards? When you can see her with your best friend's arm around her and not feel a damn thing? I hope so. We finally come to her door and she opens it, walking in and sitting on her bed. I stand awkwardly, not wanting to join her on the bed. A million images of she and I flit across my mind's eye and I bat each one down, refusing to allow nostalgia about Ginny Weasley to enter my mind. There is no Ginny Weasley, only Ginny Potter.

I lean my weight on one leg, putting my hand on my hip and raise an eyebrow at her. "You're different." She says. No shit. I nod. "You've been fucking her haven't you?" Her eyes are daggers. Suddenly anger rises in me and my nostrils flare. Who is she to be asking me about my sex life? Who is she to care who I am fucking? This victim stance of hers is getting old. There was one victim on the floor that day. One girl being carved into, changed, re-shaped by one woman. One girl lost her innocence that day and it was not Ginny Potter.

"Why the curiosity?" I ask. Looking at almost anything but her. I'm not in the mood for this. I want to be fun, nice Hermione. Hermione is not the dominant part of my personality anymore. The Warden is trying to come through and put Ginny in her place, but this is not the time. I finally look back at her. I'm not sure what the expression on her face is indicative of, I've never seen her look this way before. She stands and walks over to me, grabbing my arms and kissing me hard. I push her back, not too hard since she's pregnant. "What the fuck Ginny?" I yell, but not too loud, don't want her family coming up to find out why.

_Here, wait, so I guess that you knew,_

_That you're a selfish little whore,_

_I'm the selfish little whore,_

_If I had my way I'd crush your face in the door_

"I told you last time. I want to be with you." She says. I look into her eyes now. I don't see that. I don't see her wanting to be with me. I take a step back and shake my head at her. She had the opportunity four years ago. It's too little, too late, too many kids, too married, too much. Can something be too little and too much at the same time? I think she just accomplished that anomaly.

"You don't want me. You don't want me to be sleeping with her. Which is none of your business. We can act like you didn't just betray Harry and your kids. Do you not understand that when you kiss me you cheat not only on Harry but on Lily and Albus? You have a _family _Ginny, Don't do that again." I don't know what to do.

"It was easier when you were unhappy. It was easier than seeing you happy because of that wretched, evil woman." It was easier when I was unhappy? What happened to all of that I want whatever makes you happy crap she was spewing in that letter? Why can't I be happy if it isn't her idea of what should make me happy?

"I think that's the pot calling the kettle black Ginny. Who is worse? A woman who was brain washed into thinking it was right to torture people perceived as lesser than her or the woman who knows right from wrong and chooses to take action that could ruin her family? Do we blame the brainwashed cult member for drinking the Kool Aid Ginny? No. Do we blame the married woman for cheating? Absolutely." Her eyes fill with tears. She shakes her head.

"I'm sorry Hermione. You're right. I can't believe I am putting my family on the back burner for a woman who has moved on already." Already? Is she nuts? Four years is a long time to be under someone. It felt like forever. I'm starting to see that even if the incident with Bellatrix had never occurred things probably still wouldn't have worked between Ginny and I. She's not very loyal to the people she is supposed to love the most. I think about the reverse of the situation. If she were with me and we had a family maybe she would be having these what if feelings about Harry. I think it's just her. The woman doesn't know what she wants, or how to settle for what she already chose.

"Ginny, I just can't make myself feel as though I need to explain my choices to you. I very much feel as though you took yourself out of the equation when it comes to my decision making. Though, since you're so curious I'll let you in on something. For the first time in years I'm not walking around on auto-pilot. She makes me _feel_, Ginny. She makes me feel really fucking good." Her eyes widen. She thinks I'm crazy. Why not? I think I'm crazy too.

"What about the Longbottoms? What about Sirius? What about the other people we didn't know whose lives she ruined?" She asks. Ah, the moral dilemma. I've been asking myself those questions for days. Why am I not disgusted by the actions that Bellatrix has taken? How do I ignore the fact that the lips pressed to mine are the same lips that drove the Longbottoms to insanity? How to I ignore the fact that her hand held the wand that Killed Sirius? Questions with no answers.

"I don't know Ginny. She spent all of that time in Azkaban, her cult leader failed, your mother nearly killed her and it looked to me as though hiding away was torture on her. She is now back in the prison, serving the rest of her life in a tiny cell. She has been and is being punished for her crimes. I feel they have little bearing on my arrangement with her." The expression on her face makes her look like she smells shit. So irritating. "Listen, I really don't want to discuss this with anyone, least of all you. I'm finally past what happened between the two of us. What I do with my own body is no concern of yours anymore. It stopped being your problem when you started dating Harry. There is nothing left between us, nothing but you wanting to hold me on your line even though you have a family. It needs to stop now Ginny. Now I suggest we go back down to your daughter's party and pretend none of this ever happened." She nods mutely and we walk down the stairs.

_This is no beginning, yeah, yeah, yeah,_

_This is the final cut, open up._

_This is no beginning, yeah, yeah, yeah,_

_This is the final cut, I'm in love_

I've lost my taste for company. I smile and make my goodbyes. Hugging Lily tight, I remind her about my promise. I apparate to work and start in on the pile of papers on my desk. Thank Merlin I'm finally over Ginny Potter. That was the nicest time I've had in a while. How to deal with what I'm feeling for Lestrange then? Ugh, I am in no mood for this. I think I'll settle for being over Ginny. Pretty decent progress I think. I bury myself in my paperwork. Another urgent notice? I open it. It's in regard to Bellatrix Lestrange. Oh dear fuck. This is not good. I'm going to have to deal with this right away…

* * *

Like I said, a segue into where the story is going. A few explainations, the reemergence of Hermione Granger out of Warden Granger. More to come! Hit that review button. Tell me how you love it!


	9. Bad News, Good Recieving

The Warden and Her Prisoner

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the sentiment. The song Echo by Incubus isn't mine.

A/N: Thank you lovely people for the reviews! I truly appreciate the enthusiasm this story is recieving. I'm trying to do something worthwhile here. After reading through the stories I wrote in my teens and looking at this now I can see an honest impovement and I am trying to give you guys the best of me. This started out as a way to blow off steam and take a break from my book, but I'm loving writing it. We're getting into the conflict now. Enjoy!

P.S. if anyone is interested in reading the crap I used to write you can find it under the pen name TearsforAurora. Be warned, it's not nearly as polished as I'd like to think I am now.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

_There's something about the look in your eyes_

_Something I noticed when the light was just right_

_It reminded me twice that I was alive_

_And it reminded me that you're so worth the fight_

I click my way down to the supermax ward, quickly. I haven't felt the need to rush for much of anything in my prison before, especially not to warn my prisoners of something. This is different somehow and the problem in that is clear to me. I shouldn't care this much. I haven't cared this much about anything to do with the prison since I first took it over. The passion with which I fought for decency inside this facility was great but this passion now is a rival to it. I try to tell myself that I care so much about this because it goes against everything that I fought for. I try to tell myself that if it were any other prisoner I would be running down to the supermax ward just as eagerly, but I'm lying to myself.

I blow through the doors of the ward and walk to her cell. She perks up at the sight of me; I haven't been down for more than my daily rounds for days now. Perhaps she worried that I was through with our extra-curricular activities. I've just been busy. I slam her cell open and walk in. She sees the look on my face, the fly away strands of hair from running my fingers through it incessantly. "What is it?" She asks bewildered. I'm so angry with the news that I want to hit her and make myself feel better. I'm not here to confide in her, she is not my confidant, she is my prisoner and I am only here to make her aware of the deep shit she is in. I sit on her cot, opposite her.

"93…" I begin and see her face scrunch up. I haven't called her that since last week. She is disappointed. She liked feeling like she was important enough to warrant a name. I'm not certain of why I called her that. I guess to detach myself from the equation. To make myself be the Warden and not Hermione; freaked the fuck out about the situation. I have to be in control. "This letter I have here, it's about you. It goes against everything I have fought for. It goes against everything that this prison stands for. It goes against everything that my own morals call for." I tell her

"What does it say?" She asks.

"It says that you are to stand trial by order of the magical community. Your sentencing hearing was conducted in the fashion that I helped to mandate, but since you are such a high-profile criminal the magical community is demanding a chance at you." I say. She shrugs, making little of it.

"I stood trial after torturing the Longbottoms, they sent me here." She says. I shake my head at her. She isn't getting it. She isn't getting it at all.

"You've done more since then. You will stand trial and the evidence against you will like a giant, it will crush you underfoot. You were sentenced to life here in my supermax ward already 93, so think. If they have you here already why would they need a trial to put you here again?" I see her working the situation over in her head. I can practically hear the cogs turning in her mind.

_My biggest fear will be the rescue of me_

_Strange how it turns out that way, yeah_

_Could you show me dear?_

_Something I've not seen._

_Something infinitely interesting_

_Could you show me dear?_

_Something I've not seen._

_Something infinitely interesting_

"Perhaps they would like to humiliate me in public. They want to put a pureblood woman who is above them into a position where they can ridicule her. Even you, with your… parentage, wanted to put me in my place. The only way for them to feel they are better than me is to judge me." She says. She is obviously pleased with her conclusion. I however am frustrated with her delusion. It's just so very her to decide that everyone wants to make themselves feel better by picking on a pureblood. How very _in line _with the beliefs she has held her entire life. How arrogant to think that in order for someone of a different blood status to feel good about themselves they need to put down a pureblood. It's lunacy.

I roll my eyes at her. "No one cares about the blood in your veins. No one needs to pick on you to feel important, you twit. Most people I know wake up every day feeling quite relevant. The reason they want you to stand trial is because they are asking for a greater sentence in your case. It could be anything from keeping a Dementor in your very cell to death. It goes against all of the humane sentence work I've done. I fought tooth and nail with the ministry, spoke out at so many rallies against that sort of punishment, but you are just the sort of deranged criminal they have been waiting to catch to undermine all of that." Her eyes widen, she finally gets it.

"They want to put me to death?" She asks, stunned.

"Why is that so hard to believe? You still think your blood status makes you exempt from being responsible for your actions? Maybe you haven't realized but your side lost. Your Dark Lord was wrong. I am every bit the witch that you are and I did not steal my magic. Why is your brain so thoroughly washed? Your sister knew that it was not as cut and dry as you believed it to be. Both of your sisters knew, yet here you sit, defeated, and still believing in the theories of a crazed, dead man. No one gives you respect for your lineage. Respect is earned." Her eyes are vicious, staring at me. After all I am just a mudblood, telling a Pureblood how it is. That's how she sees it. In her world, I'm out of line.

"When you were a little girl what did Mummy and Daddy tell you when you got your Hogwarts Letter?" She asks. I frown. Why does she care?

"They were surprised and they couldn't quite believe that there was such a thing as magic. After they were shown by McGonagall that magic was real, not just the hand and eye tricks they believed it to be they were supportive. They told me that if I wanted to continue with my muggle education they would support me in that, but if I wanted to go to the magical school they would support me in that as well. Why do you ask?" She nods and smirks.

"My mother and father caned me if I became friends with anyone outside of Slytherin. My mother and father threatened to disown me should I sympathize with anyone of a lesser blood status than my own. My mother and father proved that when they burned my sister from the family tree. In my world there was no acceptance, there was no choice." She says. "So to me you are Warden Mudblood. My parents roll in their graves knowing that I have soiled myself rutting like a bitch in heat with you." Her eyes flash with that old craziness. However difficult it is to sympathize with her situation, I can see that there has to be some good under the very thick layer of delusion.

"Then why rut with me? Why lower yourself in so base and carnal a way?" I wonder. I'm not really looking for an answer, but she provides one.

"The same reason you came to my cell to rut with me woman, that day changed me. When I carved your blood status into your arm, it was lovely. Your cries so exquisite. I'd enjoyed torturing people before; I'd enjoyed cutting people before. Marring your soft, smooth skin and watching the tears fall from your eyes, all the while seeing your confusion and pleasure. You were beautiful. Beautiful in a way no other mudblood could ever be beautiful." She says and turns away from me.

Oh god. Seriously? It is utterly frustrating the way she insults me and compliments me all in one. "Well you're the only crazy, brainwashed Death Eater that could ever make me want to betray my friends."

"How are you betraying your friends?" She asks, surprised.

"By sleeping with you. By not giving you hell the way you gave all of us hell. By… liking more than just fucking you." I admit. She moves closer. She isn't tender, that would be below her. Her closeness is comforting and menacing.

_There's something about the way you move_

_I see your mouth in slow motion when you sing_

_More subtle than something someone contrives_

_Your movements echo that I've seen the real thing_

"You know you saved my life once?" She tells me and brushes some of my fly-aways smooth with her hand. I sigh and shake my head. "Yes, at the final battle. When Molly sent that curse I had been taking one quick frantic look around to see if I could find you. I couldn't, but when I looked up and realized she was going to kill me I was only able to get half of a counter-curse out before her hex hit me. It hit me in the heart and when I fell I must have looked dead, no one bothered me. When I woke up everyone was still tending to their wounds, trying to save the living. No one took much notice when my 'dead' body crept silently and slowly away. Had I gotten that entire counter-curse out I surely would have died in duel with her. I've never felt such rage in a hex." I'm taken aback. Molly didn't know that Bellatrix had gotten out half a counter-curse. Should I tell her? No.

"You were looking for me?" I ask her. She nods. "Why?" I ask.

"We were losing, the Dark Lord fell. If nothing in my life was going to go right the least life owed me was a mudblood to play with. I wanted to take you and disappear." She says. Holy shit. This is a bit too much. I was very close to being kidnapped by her. What an adventure that might have been. I would have fought her to the last. Maybe. I hope I would have, but I'm not so sure. She and I found one another the way magnets do, we had no choice.

"In any case, feeling the way I am beginning to feel about you is completely inappropriate. I should hate you. I think I do hate you, but it's the most confusing sort of hate I've ever known. You fill my mind, you make my stomach do flips, you make me…" I don't know what else.

"Wet?" She provides with a smirk. I laugh loudly.

"Yes, if nothing else you make me wet." This is almost comfortable now. It's so strange and unfair. I finally find a woman who can drive me crazy, make me care and it just had to be _that woman._ "We need to come up with a solution for this problem. I'm not willing to let any prisoner of mine face the death penalty. As much as I care about this on a personal level it needs to be handled from a professional stand point, you see. If they can pull this shit with one prisoner after all I did to fight this sort of thing then all of my work goes to waste. If they can do this to you, they can do it to anyone and that isn't the sort of world I aim to live in." She's looking at me with something I never thought I would see from her. Respect.

"You really give a fuck about this don't you?" She asks. "A shit load of prisoners who treated people like you as though they were an annoyance, some mud on the sides of their boots and you care. Why?"

"I've read enough of history to see that when one oppressed group is able to overthrow their oppressors, they then become the oppressors. We are all just human beings, faults are natural. When we are given any sort of power we become corrupted. It is a natural course of life. My goal in becoming Warden was to make sure that the prisoners in this prison didn't become the subjects of the same oppression they made the mistake of imposing upon people like me. One's mistakes should not condemn them to a life of suffering. Who among the human race has not made mistakes? There is no one." It's a statement I've made many times and it is the defense I will continue to use in the trial.

"You truly believe that? So many would say that those who oppress deserve nothing more than to be subjected to much of the same. If the shoe were on the other foot do you believe these prisoners would afford you the same mercy?" She asks.

"It's that kind of thinking that is getting you into trouble now. Good people who wish to be vindicated. Growing up I learned about many religions. I found things that I found to be crazy and some things that I agreed with fully. In Christianity, Jesus Christ preached that when one is hit, she should turn the other cheek rather than take revenge. It's about not sinking as low as those who have wronged you. I also learned that it is not the place of people to judge, since there is no one person who is better than another, therefore no one fit to judge." She narrows her eyes at me.

"Religion is the magic of muggles. That's what my parents taught me. They said it was not worth my time." I nod. Magical folk had no need of religion. "I do understand what you are saying though. It seems to me that you have a ridiculous amount of sense. I was always afraid that I would find a muggle born person to whom I was drawn and my parents would disown me. When my parents were gone I feared that I would disappoint the Dark Lord, now there is nothing left to fear." She pulls me to her. "Without that fear I find myself unbelievably drawn to you." She kisses me.

_Your biggest fear will be the rescue of you_

_Strange how it turns out that way, yeah_

_Could you show me dear?_

_Something I've not seen._

_Something infinitely interesting_

_Could you show me dear?_

_Something I've not seen._

_Something infinitely interesting_

I break the kiss after a time. "I'll be the one defending you. I've never had a ruling not go my way. You should know that. I have a lot of faith that I will be able to keep them from sentencing you to death. Then you will be back here and we can continue this way." I tell her.

"Is that what you want? To continue this way?" She asks. I know what she is getting at.

"You think that I will eventually kidnap you and disappear? It's never going to happen. As much as I care for you, you cannot be free and as long as you cannot be free I cannot be anything but your affectionate Warden." I say and engage her in a kiss. I slip my hands up her shirt and caress her. I can feel the scars on her back. I trace them with my fingertips. They feel as nice as my scar. I kiss my way down her hard jaw and tangle my fingers in her soft curls. Now isn't the time for making love. I need to be as sharp as I can be. I disengage and stand.

"Your trial is in a week. I'll be back every day to help you prepare for it." I tell her. "We aren't going to allow this to happen." She stands and for the very first time we hug. It's completely mutual. It feels awkward, but right.

"I don't like caring about you. It makes me uncomfortable." She says when we pull apart. I laugh and nod.

"It's really creepy. This is why they say opposites attract and that you can't help who you care for. Logically I can't stand you. You're arrogant, you're irritating, childish and sadistic. By all accounts I should hate you." She nods.

"Like the square peg fitting into the round hole. I guess I force my way into your humble, pleasant, mature and masochistic heart." She says. Quite right, quite right. I walk out of the cell and look back only once. She is watching me go. I wink at her. I won't allow this to happen, not when I just found her.

"Warden!" She shouts after me. I turn around and her hands are dangling out of her cell. I smile. Ah, what the fuck. I walk back over and slap her hands. She is smirking out at me from her cell. I open it up and let her put her hands on me. Her hands slide up my thighs. She gasps and I laugh. "What is your excuse thist time Warden?" She asks at my bare state. "I take it you weren't going to sleep?" I smirk.

"No, I wasn't going to sleep. I was just thinking about coming to your cell today." I respond. It's true. I had been planning on a rut with my prisoner. She pulls my dress over my hips and grasps my ass. I smile and lean in to kiss her. She kiss me back and its all clashing of teeth and lips. Her fingers are digging into my hips, hard and I want it, I want her to bruise me.

She pulls my dress over my head, breaking the kiss for only a moment to let the grament slide off of my body. I press myself into her. Her hands roam my body. She pinches and nails bite me skin all over. I reach behind me and undo my bra, she tosses it to the side. Her fingers pinch and roll my nipples before he palms knead my breasts and she starts over again.

Suddenly she pushes me hands down onto the cot. I roll my eyes. I suppose she is still upset about being punished. Her hand comes down hard on my ass. I suck air in through my teeth. Her hand comes down again. Her hand feels like fire. I feel the skin on my ass getting hot. Her left hand grips my should to keep me up. I brace myself on the wall with my hands, trying to ignore the wavering feeling in my legs. After the first few slaps I start raising my ass to meet her hand. She purrs at the sight. "You like being spanked don't you Warden?" She asks. I moan out a breathy yes. "Mmm." She replies.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" She asks, running her fingers across my ass.

"Fuck yes." I reply. She chuckles.

"Ask me for it nicely then." This bitch.

"_Please fuck me." _I ask as sweetly as I can. Her hand comes down on my ass again. Can't she be original?

"Please fuck me who?" She asks innocently.

"Please fuck me Bellatrix." I ask. She purrs again. She pushes me down on hands and kneeds on the cot. She kisses her way up my back and buries her hand in my hair. She pulls my head back and bite on my neck.

"That's better bitch." She whispers in my ear and I shiver. I do so enjoy when she takes the lead. She kisses her way back down to the small of my back. She teases a finger on my clit. She slides the finger down to my entrance. "Mmm, you're so very wet for me Warden." She says. I moan. I am wet for her. I push back, trying to wrap myself around her hand. She laughs and digs her fingernails into the abused flesh of my ass. "You're greedy pussy is trying to take me in." She says. "_Please Bellatrix."_ I plead again. She shivers and this time she slides two fingers into my wanting flesh. Her fingers twist and turn as she thrusts.

My hips roll toward her, picking up her frantic pace. She reaches around and pinches my clit and its too much, too soon. I feel her coaxing the orgasm from me before I want it to be over, but I'm helpless to stop her. She keeps at me and before I can beg her to let me last longer I'm spilling my honey onto her fingers and moaning incoherently. She continues to thrust, slowly, letting me come down. I turn and pout at her.

"Don't pout love, you're not done." She says. Just when I've come down from my first orgasm she thrusts savagely into me again. An almost scream rips itself from my throat and she moans. She's so deep, so hard, so fast. My chest falls down onto the cot as she works me down below. She grips my shoulder again, forcing me to hold myself up. She reaches around my body and I feel her breasts on my back, her hand still working furiously. Her arm holds me up and her fingers roll my nipples, its all too much. It's exquisite. As she pushes me closer and closer to the edge of this cliff, she adds a third finger, streching me open, making me feel more.

My eyes black out with the force of my orgasm. Spells emit from my mouth unbidden. Nothing is making sense anymore. Wave after wave of pleasure rips through me and my voice sounds hoarse to my ears. Finally she pulls from me and I look around the room to see that everything no attached to the floor is levitating. She allows me to roll onto my side and caresses my waist. "That was lovely." She tells me and I think it is the first compliment that she has paid me without a snide remark following.

I lean up and kiss her. "I agree, it's a bit terrifying how lovely that was." I need to begin working on her case. "I'll have your supper sent up." I tell her and put myself to rights.

"Thank you Warden." She says. I turn to her.

"You're most welcome." I say and make my way back to my office. I have a case to prepare.

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	10. Preperation

The Warden and her Prisoner

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to a Goddess of the written word, not me. The lyrics belong to a wonderful band called Gatsby's American Dream.

A/N: I rewrote this chapter twice. I wanted to slow the pace of the story. I don't want to rush this and ruin the flow. Enjoy!

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**_Chapter 10_**

_I see the world in a swirl of hues,_

_but my favorite color is shame._

"Can we go through this again?" She asks and I am frustrated, but pleased. She needed far more prep work than I hoped, but she is smart and asks a lot of questions because she wants to understand. She isn't the same type of intelligent that I am. I like to know the answer to everything before the question is even asked. She likes to be taught something inside and out, front and back. She's been enjoying her trips up to my office. I suppose for a woman who spent so many years in a terrible cell, even being in a higher quality cell is difficult.

"You do not deny any of the accusations against you. You humbly apologize for the pain you have caused. Though at the time you believed what you were doing to be right, since the man you followed ordered you to do it, in retrospect you see that your loyalties were misguided, you were misled and you regret that your actions have caused grief to so many people." I tell her for the hundredth time. Her face sours.

"It sounds so goody-goody." She says. "I'm not like that." I shake my head at her.

"You are now. If you want to live that is." I respond. She grimaces a bit. "Your trial is tomorrow. You need to have this down and you need to look like it's coming from you, not me. Do you understand?" She nods. I look her over. She's still thin enough that it doesn't look as though I've been spoiling her. Even though I brought her a piece of cake from the guards' cafeteria. She was only able to eat a few bites of it. She said it was too rich after not having things like that for such a long time. I laughed when she spread some of the icing along my bottom lip and kissed it back off. I guess it wasn't too rich when eaten off the proper surface.

"What are you smiling about Warden?" She asks slyly.

"Nothing that should concern you at the moment." I say smirking. She groans. We have been at this for hours every day. Her trial is tomorrow and of course like my twelve year old self before a big test, I have been preparing like a beast. She knows all of the rhetoric by heart, knows how to make it look convincing. She knows the motivations behind what she is saying and she has gotten so good that I think she is even beginning to fool the two of us. She reaches over and caresses the scar on my arm.

_Tonight the sky is painted..._

_Tonight the sky is painted melancholy_

_and the wind sings songs as if it would lament_

_some tragedy on the far side of the world_

"I'll give you a knut for them, a sickle if they're good." She says and I can't stop the smile from spreading across my face.

"Make it a Galleon and you've got a deal." I tease back. She laughs.

"For that, they had better be downright fantastic!" She says. I lean toward her and brush my lips ever so lightly against hers.

"They are about you." I say and feel her smile against my mouth.

"Then they must be good." She says and takes my lips with hers. I respond chastely. I don't want this building into more. The whole week I've been very strong and stern about not having sex until after the trial. She hadn't exactly made it easy on me. I have to hand it to her; she can be extremely… persuasive, but not today. Not until after the trial. I pull away and tell her so. "What if the is our last chance? What if we lose the trial?" She asks.

"Then we will never fuck again." I say simply. It seems I've used that handless slap again. After a moment her slapped expression changes to a snarl. While I have been working on slowly allowing myself to become… less of a bitch, some habits die hard. She turns back to the statements I've prepared for her. It's been this way all week. She suggests we have a snog, I tell her we have to keep working. She turns away from me and studies, ignoring me for hours. I stand and walk around the table to her. She looks up at me. "Let me see your teeth." I say. She looks puzzled. "I'm serious; I want to see your teeth."

She bares her teeth. They're not as bad as they were. I've had her brushing and flossing regularly. "Open." Her eyes flash angrily at me. I know that in the back of her mind I'm just a Mudblood who got a nice job. She hates when I tell her what to do. I'm not sure but I think that's why I take so much pleasure in doing so. Normally when she flashes her eyes at me that way I scold her about doing as I ask without questioning me, but today I soften, she is going through a lot. "I want to see if you have cavities. Actually you definitely have cavities; I just want to see how bad they are and repair them." I explain. She opens her mouth. I can't see anything. I sigh. "Wider." I demand. She growls, but complies. Oh sweet Merlin. I turn to my desk and glove my hands.

"What the fuck are those for?" She shrieks. I laugh, reminded of her first night she was here. My task tonight is slightly less invasive, but equally uncomfortable.

"I don't want to put my bare hands in your mouth for two reasons. The first, it is unsafe for you as there are Merlin knows how many germs that soap and water don't kill on my hands. The second, there are Merlin knows how many germs in your mouth that I don't want to add to the germs on my hands." I explain and she sits wide eyed looking at me like I just told her I'd like to slide my hand down her throat and tickle her small intestine.

"You kiss me. You're concern for a germ doesn't seem to hold you back from that sort of mingling." She scoffs, cheekily. I can't help but laugh. Sometimes she is genuinely pleasant to be around. I lean down and press my lips to hers briefly.

"And it's a momentary lapse in judgment every time." I respond, poking a bit of fun at her. "Now open again, wide. I need to see what I'm fixing. Try not to think too much about the double entendre of me having my wand in your mouth." I say chuckling. She bursts into laughter. Her eyes have a beautiful light in them when she genuinely smiles and laughs. But Merlin, those teeth. I allow her to calm from the laughter and look expectantly at her. She opens, wide.

My parents would faint at the sight before me. Either that or suit up for war. I carefully begin by using a numbing spell, then try a few healing spells on the sight before me. I see some of the decay clear up. I use a strong cleaning spell. The rest clears up; finally I use a spell of my own devising. "Filius." I mutter and watch as all seven of the cavities I located in her mouth regenerate themselves. It's not the most painless procedure and her eyes shut tightly, I see tears on her eyelashes and my heart aches a bit. It's still better for her in the long run to have her teeth fixed. When the holes are filled I cast one last spell on her teeth to whiten them. I am tempted to straighten them up a bit, but that is not my choice. Filled cavities and white teeth are a given, changing her (honestly; minor. I'm just nitpicky about teeth) imperfect smile is her decision. I step away from her. She closes her mouth.

"May I have some water?" She asks. Her manners have improved about a million fold since we began working on her case. It took some punishment in the beginning, but it seems she truly meant it when she said there was nothing to stop her from being polite to me, maybe even caring about me. I try not to think about how fucked up it is that I have feelings for one of my prisoners, that the prisoner I have feelings for is the one who tortured me and my friends when we just teenagers. My arm is a constant reminder of why I should hate her. My arm is a constant reminder of why I'm in this position with her now. She makes me hate her while I care for her in almost perfect balance.

I hand her a bottle of water. "Rinse first, and then drink." I tell her. She does so. I point my wand at her hair and it softens, falling in beautiful, glossy curls down her back. "That's better." I say. She looks up at me in confusion.

_Or in the deep pockets of my mind,_

_where I lust after blood and pain_

"You said you want me to stay thin, to keep them from thinking I'm in need of punishment. Yet you're fixing my teeth and hair, improving my appearance. Doesn't that have the opposite effect?" She asks. So smart. I'll bet they called her the most brilliant witch of _her _age. She is intelligent, but she never had to think about the perceptions of other people, she grew up believing that she was a cut above the rest by right.

"People are not very difficult to understand. Clean, white teeth, soft hair and a remorseful expression can create sympathy. We don't present them with the monster they expect, we put in front of them a woman who was pulled into a life that she couldn't avoid. A woman who has done things that she regrets, in the interest of keeping herself safe. We keep you thin to make you look like the sweet woman down the street with not enough to eat. We need to touch a nerve. Make it difficult to look at you and want you to come to harm." I explain.

"You think that will work?" She asks. It's difficult to concentrate on the conversation. If she was dark yet beautiful before, she was tragically stunning now. I take in her sharp bone structure, her sweet black hair. Her eyes are large and round and filled with all of the sadness in the world when they aren't busy flashing with malice and anger. Her full lips set in a pout when she isn't smirking or snarling. She is the loveliest woman. Even I can hardly make myself want to hurt her and I _like _hurting her. When she isn't being a fucking sociopath her face is... irresistible. "What are you staring at so intently?" She asks, breaking my train of thought.

"You, obviously." I answer. She smirks and the spell is broken. "Are you part veela?" I ask and she laughs.

"Thank you I suppose, and no. I'm a pureblood witch. There was no mixing with other species. Not everyone in my life has looked at me the way you just did. Some people are captivated by the monster, others repelled. My sisters were both as, if not more lovely than I am. I was a bit of a second thought growing up. I was skilled at magic, Andromeda was clever and Narcissa was the beautiful one." She says. I feel like a fucking fool. Like a little girl mooning over the popular girl. I shake it out of my head.

"I think we're as prepared as we can be. You've done quite well. Are you ready for some supper and a shower?" I could use some supper and a shower, that's for sure. She yawns and nods. How a woman who is so evil could possibly look so damn cute is beyond me. I have to remind myself that she is the woman who carved Mudblood into my arm. I run my fingers over the scar absentmindedly. She catches the movement and raises an eyebrow at it. "Just a habit." I say and shrug.

Tonight the sky is painted...

_Tonight the sky is painted melancholy_

_and the wind sings songs as if it would lament_

_some tragedy on the far side of the world_

She closes the space between us and takes my arm in her hands, lifting it to her lips and kissing from the crook of my elbow down to my wrist. "You caress it almost lovingly. Why is that? You hate me for it, don't you?" She asks and I can hear her old taunting in her voice. She's fucking with me. She wants me to tell her that I liked it again.

"I do hate you for it. You marred me, ripped screams and tears from me. You ruined the relationship I was in. You took an innocence that I still held onto, despite all of the brushes with death, despite my young sexual awareness. I still had something pure in me. You took that from me that day." She rolls her eyes.

"Little Warden, the Weasel was never going to truly satisfy you. Just because I made you aware of the masochist that lives deep inside the recesses of you, where you'd subconsciously hidden it, doesn't mean it wasn't already there. You would have married him. You would have tired of him and never known why he just couldn't satisfy you. You would have lived a boring, ordinary life. If anything I helped you." She traces she fingers over the word. "Look now, it's my mark on you. It's a gift."

"What makes you think I was fucking Ron? I loved Ron as a brother, the same way I love Harry. We met when we were eleven years old. We survived things that should have killed us for years. We went through everything together. I should have thrown myself at him, wanted him, but I couldn't. I was in love with his sister." I tell her.

"Isn't she married to Potter?" She inquires.

"She couldn't handle the gift you gave me." I snap. "She left me because when I next saw her I simply wasn't the same person. I tried to take your knife in my hand and make myself feel the way you made me feel, but I couldn't. When I asked her to try she couldn't. After you she was sub-par. I've come to realize that you're right, I would have eventually grown tired of her and not known why, but that should have happened in its own time. Things could have been smoother, I could have slowly introduced her to the things I was wanting, but you threw me into it head first. You ruined my chances of having a productive, healthy, happy relationship with the woman I loved." I finish and I'm livid.

She is smirking at me in that way of hers and I just want to slap it off her face. Her pretty face. She grabs the letter opener from my desk. She pulls my arm up and traces the M on my arm, leaving a shallow cut in its wake. Small beads of blood appear on the old re-opened wound. I gasp at the sensation. How gently this woman can inflict delicious pain. She runs the blunt side of the blade over her collar bone. She turns the blade over and lifts my hand to take it from her. I grasp it and slide the blunt side downward. I lift her shirt. Creamy, unmarked skin. Ever so lightly I run the sharp side down between her prominent ribs.

_I am I and the world is a woman_

_from whom I must take take take._

_In an act of lust, in an act of pride_

_And I am damned, but can I be saved?_

_but can I be saved?...saved_

I have never done this type of thing before. Never had a woman who wanted to. A small scratch. She sighs. I don't think I could do what she did to me. I couldn't carve an entire derogatory term into someone else's skin. She is better at inflicting that sort of mindless pain that I am. I move down to her hip. Next to her protruding hip bone I press down and in three swift motions make my mark on her.

**_H_**

Simple and to the point. I don't care about her blood status. All I care about is that she's mine. I slam the letter opener back down on my desk behind me and pull her body against mine. Her lips lay claim to my mouth. I am dizzy with the rush of making her mine. One of the most cunning witches of all time and she has submitted to me. A pureblood rolling around in the mud. I do so enjoy getting her all dirty. I pull away.

There is an H of blood on my shirt. Our blood has spilled on the floor. She looks almost surprised to see that her blood doesn't bead away from mine, the way water beads away from oil. I run a finger over my cut and smear my blood across her wound. A union of the macabre, it's like finally coming home. "Just accept it. My blood is no different from yours. We are both accomplished witches, both of us bleed red, though I expected yours to be blue from having such a cold heart." She snorts.

"You're my sweet muddy girl. Better than all who came before you. Too good and sweet for anyone to live up to after you. You're mine." She says and claims my mouth again. I let her enjoy herself for a while before remembering that we aren't fucking until after the trial. If I haven't got my resolve what have I got? I gently detach myself from her. I pull her by the hand to the shower and she pouts. "When the trial is over I'll make it up to you. I promise." I tell her and she showers, I deposit her back in her cell and make my rounds. Many of the prisoners wish me luck on the trial tomorrow. A few of them assure me that they don't care what happens to Bellatrix, they just want to see me succeed in keeping up the standards I put in place. They understand that I -practically singlehandedly- put in place the boundaries that keep them living comfortably. They understand the effect a ruling against me has on them. I assure them all that I am going to give it my best. After rounds, I let myself fall asleep in the office; I want to be sharp for the trial. My mind swims between my defensive arguments and the prisoner they pertain to. I welcome the sleep that settles over me like a quilt and drift away…

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	11. Hermione, finally

The Warden and her Prisoner

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. Song is Egyptian Musk by Head Automatica.

A/N: Final Chapter. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 11**

_There's a suicidal Taliban_

_For talent on the cusp_

_Egyptian musk_

_Egyptian musk_

The court room is buzzing with a hundred whispered conversations when I walk Bellatrix into the room. All eyes move at the same time to the subject of the trial. She looks just the way I want her to, humble, but not afraid. For the trial I have her wearing traditional black robes rather than the tan prison garb. The less like a criminal she looks the better. For a moment, silence, but the moment ends and the buzz is replaced with a gentle hum of speculation. This does not look like the crazed psychopath they expected to see. Some of them look relieved, others look disappointed. I suppose some people came for a show and others came due to the effects she may have had on their lives.

I walk her over to the chair in the center of the room and she sits, back straight, shoulders back, like a proper lady. I bite hard on the sides of my cheeks to stop myself from smirking at how much she isn't in actuality a proper lady. She's quite crass and I have to admit it's one of my favorite qualities about her. I take my seat and the head of the Wizengamot begins the trial. When the last head of the Wizengamot died, Spainier, the man before Bellatrix was voted unanimously into the position. I have had discussions with him at length about my prison and the way it's run. He was always one of my supporting votes and I spoke briefly on his behalf during his campaign for the position.

I look up at him and he curtly nods to me, professional respect. He may not like the woman I am defending but he respects my beliefs and the fact that I am defending her. I stop myself from falling into any sort of false sense of security. My friendly working relationship with Spainier does not mean he will rule in Bellatrix's favor. I have to stay sharp. I look around briefly. Harry and Ginny, Ron and his lovely wife, Aurors and shop keepers alike have all come out to see this. My eyes rest on Neville Longbottom and Luna Longbottom. His face is grim and determined. I know that he was one of the people who petitioned for this trial. My heart aches for him at the same time as it curses him. He notices me looking at him and shakes his head almost unperceptively. He cannot believe that I am defending this woman. Oh God Neville, if only there were a way for both of us to be happy.

I sit at the defense table and fold my hands over one another, intently listening to the opening statement of the inquirer. Silva was a man I respected, he takes cases that he cares about, much the same way I do. Today though, he is a man I want to obliterate. I do not want just to win this case, I want to make people feel barbaric for even suggesting capital punishment in this post-war world of peace and compassion.

"Good day ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot. Today we convene in order to properly evaluate the crimes and punishment of Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange. I mean no offense to the system set in place by Warden Granger, in most cases I fully agree with rising above the wrongs of others and not sinking as low as the wrongdoer, but in this case turning the cheek simply does not suffice." It takes all of my self-control to keep my face neutral. I'd like to spit at him right now. "In a case like this the laundry list is so long and so vile that one cannot simply be the bigger person. There are too many lives ruined, to many hurts caused, a woman like this needs to be punished. It is important to remember that that the woman sitting there, as harmless as she may or may not appear was the right hand of You Know Who. A woman so high in the ranks of a genocidal would-be tyrant cannot simply be slapped on the wrist, an example needs to be made of her. Evidence will be presented to prove that point throughout the trial. Thank you." He finished with a small customary bow and sits on his side of the room.

_When the village came with fire_

_You were out there on the right_

_We knew you might_

_The blood of Christ_

I stand. I look around. Almost everyone looks impressed with Silva's statement. I can change that. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am here today to present, not evidence, but reason. The woman you see before you was a Death Eater. She was the right hand to Voldemort." A few gasps as I say his name. I pointedly ignore them. "You see before you a woman who put all of her faith into something she believed. Much the same way I put all of my faith into something I believed, the same way all of us did. You see before you a woman who has done unspeakably cruel things for the sake of obeying the man she addressed as 'Lord.'" I give this a moment to sink in. I see some nodding heads. Neville catches my eye again. His mouth is set in a thin line. There are a few people in the crowd with that same expression, Ginny Potter among them. Harry himself looks neither here nor there. I know he feels that I am right, this is the man who allowed Peter Pettigrew to live, but he is not happy about it.

"You see before you a woman who was deeply misguided, much the same way each and every single one of us in this room has been misguided in some way in our lives. If there is one person in this room who is perfect I would like to shake their hand. To be flawed is to be human. You see before you a human being who believed wrong to be right. A woman who was bade to perform horrendous acts by a man she looked up to. She was raised to believe that her actions were right. She was never given the option of thinking for herself on the matter. The woman you see before you is a product of backward thinking. A woman who is already sentenced to spending her life in a heavily guarded cell. She does not choose when she walks outside, she does not choose when she eats or what she gets to eat, she does not choose anything. Her freedom has been stripped from her. That is as far as punishment should go." I look around. I have them thinking. It's exactly what I hoped for.

The trial moves along. Silva calls several people to the stand. Bellatrix does exceptionally well as he questions her. Things are going as planned, I cross examine each of them with the skill only experience can hone. Like a quidditch match we go back and forth, he calls someone to the stand and makes Bellatrix look awful, I question them and make them feel the death penalty is too strong. I sit after questioning Neville. I went easy on him; his situation is tenderer than others. Silva stands.

_I'll tell you lies I have found_

_I've seen a million religions on the ground_

_There's a suicidal Taliban_

_For talent on the cusp_

_Egyptian musk_

_Egyptian musk_

"I'd like to call Warden Granger to be questioned." He says. What the fuck? I feel all eyes turn to me. What is he playing at? I stand.

"High Wizard, I hardly find it appropriate to be questioned when I am the defense." I say in my most appealingly stern voice.

"Why are you calling the Warden to testify?" Spainier asks Silva.

"She is one of Ms. Lestrange's victims, High Wizard." He replies. Oh fuck me. How did I not see this coming? So many hours of careful preparation and I forget this one gaping hole in my defense. I am one of her victims. Of course I hardly feel that way now, but I am. I was too close to the situation to realize that I was the loose thread.

"With all due respect to the Wizengamot, I am not willing to stand as a witness against the woman I am advocating for. I humbly ask that this motion not go forward, High Wizard." I request. Spainier wants to accommodate me, but I can see in his expression that there is no way around this.

"I'm afraid that if you have evidence pertaining to this trial, you must present it." He says and he sounds like he regrets it. I swallow, hard and walk down to the witness chair. Silva has a glint in his eye. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach. Bellatrix's eyes meet mine and she looks incredibly calm. I compose myself.

"Warden, will you roll back your sleeve for the court to see?" He asks. Fuck me sideways. The M, it's freshly cut, traced even. An intimate moment between her, now to be exposed to this entire room of my peers. I close my eyes, cursing myself for allowing this to happen. I am so much better than this. I roll my sleeve back and there is a collective gasp. Everyone is gasping at the word written there. It may have been the connection between Bellatrix and I, but all they see is that she mutilated my arm, and I can do nothing to explain why I do not want to testify against her for it.

_Is that your love down on the ground?_

_I see forever coming down_

_Look around, look around_

_It makes everything okay _

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I hear a voice cry out. I turn and see Ginny standing. Her eyes livid. Her hair looks like its crackling with electricity. Spainier calls for order, but it's far too late for order. "You let her fucking cut it back open? What are you her whipping girl now?" She shrieks. This whole situation is fucked to hell now. The entire room is in an uproar. I catch pieces of conversations, speculation on my relationship with Bellatrix. I am going to be stripped of my title. This is it. Four years and someone has finally caught me knuckle-seep in a prisoner, the most notorious prisoner.

It happens too quickly, that I just barely grasp what is happening. Ginny is screaming, the room is so loud I feel like I'm going deaf, but all I hear is Neville's voice. Two simple words. "DIE BITCH!" and there are curses flying from his mouth. "AVADA-" I cut him off so quickly no one knows what happened. I stun him and he falls to the floor. Silence settles on the room like a thick layer of so much dust. Every eye is on me now. Speculation over, suspicions confirmed. Several Aurors from the rows above me are moving toward Bellatrix. I see Harry holding Ginny back because she is pregnant. That bitch. No one else would have noticed that the wound was fresh again, the lines were so thin, and of course it was her. Years later and still she cannot get over that I wanted something more than she was.

I consider the Aurors and make the rashest decision of my life. I'm sure to lose my position now that I've been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I will never be able to see her again if I don't do something and the Aurors are closing in. It takes all of five seconds for me to sprint from the witness chair to Bellatrix. I grasp her arms as hard as I can. No one is supposed to be able to apparate from this room, but being the Warden affords some privilege. The rationale was that I may at some point have to rush back to the prison during a sentencing. I pull her as hard as I can with me as I apparate, terrified that I might splinch her. We land in my office.

"Oh shit!" I scream when I see her face. She wasn't splinched, thank Merlin, but she is cut, bad. Someone must have hit her with some curse before I got her out of there. I heal her quickly. I place my wand to my jugular. "Guards, I cannot believe I am saying this, but we have a situation Green. Defend the prisoners. It has been a pleasure to work with all of you. Keep up my work. Keep up my standards. Believe in what we've built here, defend it! Prisoners, defend what we've fought for you to have here. Rise up, stand with the guards." I say.

Situation Green. I've fallen from grace into the arms of a Death Eater. "Verde." I mutter and flick my wand at the vault inside the closet in the far corner of my office. Wands, hundreds of wands fly out of the vault and into the hands of the witches and wizards they once belonged to. The cells open. Not one of the prisoners attempts to run. There is nothing for them outside of these walls. They stand tall with the guards and it is almost the proudest moment of my life, too bad it's tainted with failure. Failure tastes awful as my mouth goes as dry as cotton. My proudest moment is the one in which I have to cut my ties and run.

_So you celebrate the ignorance _

_And you drizzle it in violence_

_And you swear your sore allegiance_

_To every auto and appliance_

_Because they win if we don't go about life like we should_

_I knew you would_

_I knew you would_

"What are we going to do now?" Bellatrix asks. "Do we stand and fight?"

"No. I've done enough standing and fighting to last me a lifetime. An unhappy lifetime." I say. What are we going to do now? I look around. The answer is sitting on my desk. The endless purse. What I like to call the 'Oh Shit Bag.' I've kept it packed with essentials since my running days with Harry. The second flat I've been making payments on since I started as Warden, hoping never to need it, always having the feeling I would. "We're going." I say.

"Where?" She asks. I know where and I know how to do it. Leaving my apartment behind is not a problem. I look around the room. They are sure to be coming. The apparition point is far enough away that I have time. I prepared for this moment hoping against hope that it would never come.

I whip my wand around the office. "Scourgifate!" I yell. I modified the cleaning spell to destroy everything that can incriminate me. Records begin to catch fire, letters, pictures, everything until there is nothing left in this office of me and this office could have belonged to anyone. I throw all of my personal effects into the bag and grab Bellatrix by the hand. We apparate to my apartment quickly. I purge the place of all the things I do not want them finding. I empty out my safe into the purse. I long ago stopped keeping my money in Gringotts, breaking into the place on several occasions somehow tainted my trust of the goblins when it comes to my capital. Then I apparate us to my parents' house. I look around and take a few pictures of me with my parents before going through the same process I had to endure years ago. I remove myself from their lives and I cannot help the guilt that eats at me for putting them through this. I choose a few of my childhood items before turning my room into a study for my father. A single tear falls from my eye. I wipe furiously at it.

_Is that your love down on the ground?_

_I see forever coming down_

_Look around _

_Look around_

_It makes everything okay_

"Just give me over to them." She says quietly. I turn on her, my wand raised. She has hers in hand but she doesn't raise it in return. "They would forgive you. You'll lose your job, but they'll forgive you. You can keep your life. Find a nice woman, settle down in the country perhaps." She says.

"There are no other women." I say. I grab her by the hand again and we are gone. We land in my flat in New York City. I've had this one for years, paid in full. "Welcome Home." I tell her and begin pulling my life out of the purse it's been sitting in for five years.

"Where are we?" She asks.

"New York." I reply.

"Why are we in New York?" She asks.

"I've visited the states many times over the last few years. The witch and wizard community here don't know much about the struggles in England, nor do they care to know. The charm of Americans is that they are all utterly concerned with themselves. We can live here and no one will even notice us." I explain. The flat already looks far more like home than the one in London did. I place the photos of my parents and me above the electric fireplace. I guess I always knew this day would come. One item after another comes out of the beaded bag, until it's empty. Bellatrix has sat silent the entire time, letting me have space, letting me do this, create a sense of normalcy here when everything has gone wrong. She lets me come to terms with the fact that I've just exited stage left from my own life for her.

"What do we do now?" She finally asks. I sigh. That's such a loaded question. I decide to make light of the situation.

"Now I think I'll make a sandwich, would you like one?" I ask and walk over to the kitchen. I pull out some peanut butter and strawberry rhubarb jam. I spread four slices of bread and hand her one of the sandwiches. She smiles and takes a bite. "I don't quite know what we're going to do now." I say. "I have enough money for us to live a lifetime without working ever again, but I quite enjoy having some purpose in my life. I suppose I'll find myself a nice job, maybe in a book store." I muse out loud as we walk back into the sitting room and plant ourselves on the sofa.

"You're going to find a job in a book store? I though you would want to go back into law enforcement of some sort." She inquires, inhaling her sandwich in four bites.

"I took that job knowing that one day I would get you in my prison. I would be able to punish you for the things you did. That may not have worked out exactly as I thought it would." I say.

"So we're going to have a life together? The Warden and 93?" She asks.

"I was thinking we would, unless you've some other plans?" I tease her. She scowls at me. "Don't scowl; it makes you look like a petulant child." I say. She sticks her tongue out at me, as if to prove that she is a petulant child. I can't help but chuckle. I finish my sandwich and rest my head on her shoulder. "I was considering, since this situation is no longer taking place in a prison cell, perhaps I could call you by your given name and you mine?" I ask.

She turns to me and I look up at her. "What is your given name anyway?" She asks, smirking. I punch her on the shoulder. "Come on now! I am a frail thing after all!" She shrieks and I kiss her. I kiss the woman I've been waiting for. I feel the Warden was left behind in that prison. I feel that I scourgifated her out of my psyche as well as that office. We break the kiss and sit, foreheads pressing against one another. "You do know my name don't you?" I ask. She laughs.

"Yes, Hermione. I know your name." It sounds nice when she says it. It sounds nice to be called Hermione by the woman I have come to love. She nudges me. "So _Hermione" _I laugh at her exaggeration of my name. "I propose a race to the bed, since I haven't been in a proper one in ages. The winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser." I look at her for a moment before launching myself off of the bed and racing to the bedroom. She trips me and I lose my balance. When I get to the room she is already tying scarves to the bedposts.

"You cheated." I say. She flashes me a wicked smile.

"Old habits and all." She says and pulls me toward the bed. I'm content to let her. After all this time I'm ready to play a game where even the loser wins.

* * *

Thank you all for your interest and feedback. I hope you had as good a time with it as I have.


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